


Living Arrangements

by kayromantic



Category: Dawson's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 11:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17140676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayromantic/pseuds/kayromantic
Summary: A room for rent. A misunderstanding. An unexpected mix-up has unintended consequences.





	Living Arrangements

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fmnds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fmnds/gifts).



> A huge thank you to Sara ([@satelliteinasupernova](https://archiveofourown.org/users/satelliteinasupernova/pseuds/satelliteinasupernova)) for the read through, moral support and listening to me struggle with how big this thing became.

Apartment 407C.

Josephine “Joey” Potter took one last glimpse at the email. This was it. Her one shot at escaping the little mode of hell her life had become the last few weeks.

Of all the available rooms in the city, only ten were in her budget and only two were available for immediate move in. That was the dealbreaker. She had to move now, not later. Otherwise she feared—

But she couldn’t think about that. Just good thoughts. Only good thoughts. This was going to work. And luck was on her side. The neighborhood was decent, even quaint, and Joey liked that there was a small market just down the street. And she had even been able to forego the outside intercom when she followed another resident inside. It probably didn’t bode well for security, but for her it was just one less barrier, one less chance to turn back. The last thing she needed was for anything to give her pause, give her time to think. If she didn’t do this now, then she was never going to do it.

There was no elevator, but the walk up the stairs had allowed her to admire the building’s architectural details. The feel of the building was industrial. It seemed to be a former warehouse that had been recommissioned for residential housing.

But that was insignificant perk, Joey’s primary concern was not the building or its aesthetic. It was who she was going to be living with. She hoped that whoever she was, she would like her.

“Get a grip Joey. It’ll be fine. Just knock on the door,” she berated herself out loud. Why did she always do this. Always hesitating at the last minute.

She took a deep breath and knocked three times on the apartment door and held her breath waiting for her—hopefully—future roommate to answer. She didn’t have to wait long, because the door opened not two seconds after she knocked…

And she let out a breath. It was a man who answered the door. Her heart sank, this couldn't be her roommate, she had specifically asked for only listings involving woman but then Joey calmed herself. She reasoned it could be a brother. Or a boyfriend. God she hoped he wasn’t a boyfriend.

“Um hi, I’m looking for Lacey Witter, I’m here about the room for rent?” she blurted out. She was so relieved she was able to get the words out that she barely heard his response, rather she tried to sneak a glimpse past his shoulder to the apartment within and only took a brief stock of him.

He said something again, and so she finally turned and met his gaze. He wasn’t that bad looking though not conventionally attractive, and definitely not her type, with wide blue eyes, curly hair and a little scruff around the chin. But Joey pushed those thoughts away. She did not need to be thinking about that right now. Not with how things were with Dawson…

“I'm sorry, what was that?” she said, steering her thoughts back to the situation at hand.

“It’s Pacey,” the man said.

“Oh, sorry, that must have been a typo in the email. I’m looking for Pacey, about the room,” she said.

“I’m Pacey.”

And that was when her heart sank. Her one last hope crushed.

“That can’t be right,” Joey said, “I’m pretty sure it was a girl who was looking for a roommate.”

“Not that I know of,” Pacey said, “but honestly I have an appointment with someone else. No offense, I’m not taking random walk ins from the street.”

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. He was being more frustrating than he needed to be.

“I’m not a walk in,” she said, “I have an….”

Joey stopped mid-sentence and stared at Pacey again.

“The person you’re waiting on,” she said, “they don’t happened to be Joey Potter by chance?”

He cocked his head to the side, and it seemed that a light bulb had gone off in his head.

“Yeah, how did—”

“I’m Joey Potter,” she said, cutting him off.

Pacey didn't seem to comprehend what she said. He just backed up and began shaking his head in disbelief.

“What? You’re Joey?” he asked.

“Yes, I'm Joey Potter” Joey said, and internally berated herself, she should have thought to use her full name but she had spoken to the leasing agent on the phone so she had assumed that she wouldn't have had to worry about a thing like that, “and now I can see this was all a big mix up, and I should go.”

“Wait, did your parents actually name you Joey Potter?” Pacey asked again, seeming somewhat more bemused than he should have been and Joey, now fully annoyed, scowled.

“No, it’s short for Josephine,” she said.

“Why not go by Josie?”

“Because I go by Joey,” she said, feeling really indignant that she needed to explain her name to this complete stranger, “Now look, there has obviously been a mistake, because I thought you were a girl, and you thought I was a boy so I’ll just go…”

She turned back towards the stairs when she heard Pacey open the door wider.

“You sure? Don’t you need a room? The email from the leasing agent made it sound like you were super desperate.”

Joey was super desperate, but she really didn’t want this guy to know that.

“So? I mean you’re a guy.”

“So,” he repeated right back at her.

“Weren’t you looking for a guy to be your roommate?” she asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, and Joey wondered how he could be so flippant. Didn't he possibly realize why a strange guy and girl rooming together was an absolute terrible idea?

“I mean it’s a preference, but if you make the cut than I see no problem. I need to get the room occupied before the end of the month. I can’t make rent on my own, you see,” he said, “I mean I could, but then I wouldn’t be able to eat and I like to eat….”

Joey could do nothing but just stare at him in a mix of shock and bewilderment. But what could she possibly do? It wasn't like she had a wealth of options that she could just easily walk away. She had resigned herself to being open to living with a slob or some lady with fifty cats. Was living with a boy really all that much different?

“Fine, I’ll look, but don't hold your breath” she said, this whole thing was absolutely crazy. She had never done anything like this in her life. Moving in with a stranger was one thing, moving in with a strange boy she’d never met? That was something she would have given flack to any of her girlfriends for.

The first thing she noticed when she crossed the threshold into the apartment proper was just how spacious it was. It was exposed brick, with large windows lining the back and what looked to be actual travertine tiles on the floor. She felt her defenses raise up, something didn't quite add up. There was no way that the rent was as low as it was for just two people. Either her potential new roommate was secretly, spectacularly rich or there was some humongous catch.

“What do you do for a living?” she asked, “You’re not a student.”

Joey supposed that her last comment could cause offense, but everything about his manner was rubbing her the wrong way that she didn't quite care if she was being impolite.

“Nope, never finished high school,” Pacey said, “I bartend at a bar down the street. Rooney’s.”

She nodded, she had passed it a couple of times. Never went in though.

“Can I ask why…..”

“Why the rent is so low?” he said, “Sorry I can’t give away all my secrets. But I have an arrangement with property owner.”

“You aren’t going to kill me in my sleep are you?” she asked, “What happened to your last roommate?”

“Oh the usual, moving in with his girlfriend, about to propose, you know the drill,” Pacey said, standing by the door and watching as she roamed through the kitchen, “I have his information, you can speak with him if you like.”

“Right,” she said, “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Yes I do,” he said.

“And she’d be okay with you living with a girl?” Joey asked.

“She trusts me,” he said and he pointed to a door to the left of the entrance, “Over there is your bedroom and the bathroom. There are locks on both.”

“Right.”

“So you have a boyfriend?”

She stopped and she felt the ache that she had been living with for the last week rise to her chest again. She realized that she didn’t honestly know the answer to that very simple question.

“Sort of…he needs space,” she said, but she didn’t elaborate any further than that. She wasn’t entirely accustomed to her new status quo, and she was in no rush to get into the personal details with a complete stranger.

“I see,” he said, “so you’re moving to…”

“Give him space,” she said and turned to him, “Look if I do this, and I'm not saying I am, it may only be for the summer”

“I’m only doing a year lease. You understand, I like some stability,” he said.

“I’ll find a replacement if necessary,” she responded. This was nuts, she wasn’t really going to move in here. It was absurd.

“So you have the application, background check, proof of income, all that?” Pacey asked.

If she could kill him with a single glare, she would.

“Of course,” she said, “I’m a student and I part time at the yacht club."

She handed him an envelope she had been carrying around with her the whole time, it contained her background and credit check, along with pay stubs and other proof of funds. She was surprised he even thought to ask for it before letting her see the place.

“Right,” he said, checking inside quickly, and once content that everything was accounted for, he grabbed a similar envelope from the counter and handed it to her.

“Look, thanks for showing me the place, but I don’t know if I can just move in here with you. You’re a…”

Pacey raised an eyebrow.

“You’re a guy, and it would just be too complicated,” she said.

He waved her off.

“You’re overthinking it. Go home, talk with your not-ex-boyfriend and give me a call when you've made up your mind,” he said.

“Fine,” she said.

She took one last look at the apartment. There really wouldn’t be anything better than this, she thought and looked at Pacey for what she fully intended to be the last time in her life. He didn’t appear to be an axe murderer or a pervert, but one could never tell these days.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, and walked out the door.

“Please do, Joey Potter,” Pacey said and she walked out the door and she didn't look back.

If she did decide to move in, she thought, it would either absolutely save her life or destroy it.

 

 

  
“It’s crazy, right?” Joey said as she folded her clothes and placed them in boxes on the bed. She looked at Jen Lindley, her best friend, laying on the bed flipping through the documents that Pacey had given her.

She hadn’t agreed to move in to apartment 407C yet, but when she had gotten back to the small villa that her Dawson had shared, she remembered why she couldn't stay where she was. There were too many photos and memories, and it felt claustrophobic. Dawson barely looked at her over the past week, not wanting to acknowledge that something had changed between them.

“I don’t know,” Jen said, “I mean you saw what roommate matching was like freshman year of college. My surprise roommate was an absolute psycho.”

“This is different,” Joey said, “at least your freshman roommate was a girl.”

Jen waved her off.

“That doesn't necessarily mean anything,” Jen said, “besides he seems to check out. I googled him, and there are no obvious red flags. Did you talk to the former roommate?”

“Yes,” Joey said, “His name was Will Krupsky or maybe it was Krufsy? I don't know, either way, he stated that he was just an average guy and that I would be perfectly safe. But he could just be his accomplice to lure unsuspecting girls to their doom.”

“You watch too many procedurals.”

Joey looked at Jen and sighed. She really wished that Jen would be serious about this.

“Are you sure I can’t move in with you?” she asked and flopped down on the bed besides Jen.

“Joey, I barely fit in my apartment, let alone you,” Jen said, “Why don’t you just wait, I’m sure Dawson wouldn’t mind, it isn't like he's kicking you out or anything.”

Joey just stared at the ceiling. She had done enough thinking about this, and moving out was the only viable solution as she saw. After a lifetime of friendship, and four years of dating, things with Dawson Leery, her best friend and soulmate, were strained to say the least. If she stayed any longer, things would get worse and she didn't want to think about the possibility that she could lose him for good.

He had left for a semester to do some internship in California and when he had gotten back, he was different. He had been distant, and went out without asking her along or even saying where he was going. If it had been anyone other than Dawson, she would have suspected he was cheating, but it wasn't that, it was like he always seemed to jump to being anywhere but with her. And when she had confronted him about it, he'd just said that he needed time and space.

And so here she was.

“I can’t stay here, Jen,” Joey said, “I think if I do, then I will never be able to make things right with Dawson.”

"So you broke up," Jen said.

“We haven’t broken up,” Joey said, “not officially.”

“Joey, you’re moving out!”

Joey propped herself up on her elbows and glared at Jen. She had gone over this a hundred times, so she made the plea out loud to Jen that she had been making for weeks to herself.

“This will be good,” Joey said, “for both of us.”

“If you say so. You still have to accept the apartment.”

Joey groaned, and they were back to her original dilemma.

“It’s ridiculous,” she said, “I can’t live with a boy.”

“You’re living with Dawson,” Jen said.

“That’s different. I can’t live with a guy who isn’t family or my boyfriend,” Joey said.

“You know, give it a shot. Hell, if you play your cards right, it may even make Dawson jealous and things will go back to how they used to be in no time,” Jen said.

Joey sighed and nodded in agreement. Jen was right. She had no other option, and she was sure that Dawson wouldn’t be completely okay with her moving in with some guy she didn’t know. Maybe it would be enough that he could re-think whatever little funk he was going through. It would just take the summer; Dawson would come to his senses, they would get back together and she would move back in as if nothing ever went wrong.  Just a summer.

She could stomach Pacey Witter for a summer.

 

  
Joey did not actually tell Dawson she was moving in with a guy, just that she had found a place and would move immediately. He didn’t try to talk her out of it, outside of a half hearted statement that there was no need to rush.

“Joey, we’re friends,” Dawson said, and by the tone of his voice she could tell that he thought she was overreacting, “We were friends first.”

Joey couldn't argue with that. They had been friends first. Dawson Leery, her first and for the longest time only friend. But a deep part of her knew that they could never go back to that time again. At least not with the way things were going right now.

“You want space, Dawson,” she said, “and I can’t give you that if I’m still living here.”

"Right,” he said, he didn’t push the subject any further and just retreated back to his personal dark room.

She reassured him later that it wasn’t too far which he seemed to accept. Later when she thought about it, she was disappointed he didn’t protest more. They had been living together for two years, except for his time in L.A., and for him to just let her go without a fight was incredibly disheartening. Almost like things were broken beyond repair.

Maybe Jen was right. Maybe this was a break up and she just couldn’t see it, because she had never really experienced one before. A real adult break up. She had thought she would never have to. Dawson was who she was supposed to be with. That’s what she had always thought and what everyone had always told her.

But maybe that had been lie. Had her entire life been a waste? How could she and everyone she knew be wrong?

Jen was the only one to help her move. Fortunately she didn’t have that much to pack aside from her clothes, books, and art supplies. Most of the things belonged to Dawson. It was like she had been a guest in the villa as opposed to a bonafide resident. Great, another depressing thought for a depressing time in her life.

She didn’t see Pacey when she first arrived, but that was all well and good. She had no intention of getting close to her new roommate. He did pop in later to see how things were going and offer to help but she brushed him off.

“Really that’s all you have? I thought girls were supposed to be natural hoarders,” he said loudly from the kitchen, and Joey grimaced when she saw him drink milk straight from the gallon. This did not bode well for things to come.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Joey asked.

“I think it means that you Joey Potter, are not a typical girl,” Jen said, walking back into the living area from dropping off the last box in Joey’s bedroom.

“Who is this splendid creature?” Pacey asked staring at Jen, and Joey immediately felt super awkward. Back in high school, Jen was the attractive, mysterious blonde that all the boys seemed to gush over. She was basically everything that Joey wasn't. The hot blonde with a quick wit and full lips that made boys swoon. Joey in her moody adolescence had resented her for it. Thankfully, Jen had been a bigger person and they eventually forged a friendship through mocking the derision that had come with being outcasts in a small town. And they had been best friends ever since.

Joey had thought she was over insecurities like that, but the way that Pacey was appraising Jen bugged her, brought up old wounds. She didn't like it all.

“Hi, I’m Jen,” Jen said, “the best friend.”

"I'm Pacey, roommate," Pacey replied back and shook Jen's hand.

“Not Lacey,” Jen said.

“Nope,” Pacey said, smiling and Joey grew annoyed by the cocky grin on his face. How could he be so suave like that? Didn’t he say he had a girlfriend?

“I would tell you to watch your back, but since this is Joey Potter, I don’t think I have to worry,” Jen said.

“Why is that?” Pacey asked.

“Because I’m pretty sure she could murder you in your sleep if she wanted to,” Jen quipped and Joey rolled her eyes.

“I’m standing right here,” she said, gathering up hangers to bring to her closet. Heaven strike her down, if she was going to let these two have a moment. Jen needed to remember who she was here for.

“Well, you’re done, Joey. I’m going to book it. I’ll call later to take you out,” Jen said as she hurried out the door.

Joey waved her off and than turned back to Pacey.

“Don’t even think about it,” she said.

“Think about what?” he asked.

“I saw how you looked at her,” she said, “don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“I do. Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a good, smart-looking woman,” Pacey said.

“You’re a pervert aren’t you. I can’t believe this. I moved in with a pervert,” Joey said, throwing up her hands.

“Hey, I didn’t hit on her,” Pacey said, “That was not me hitting on a woman. And if you must know, my girlfriend is very strong and secure in our relationship; she understands that I can and will find other woman attractive. You’re just too much of a prude to appreciate it.”

Joey huffed in annoyance.

“Probably too trusting,” Joey said, “just keep to your side of the apartment.”

“My side has the kitchen,” Pacey said, and Joey wished for a moment that she could just wipe the smile off his face. Just once.

“You know what I mean.”

Joey went into her room and she didn’t leave except for once later to get dinner. A part of her seriously questioned whether she had just made the biggest mistake of her life.

 

 

It was official. Pacey Witter was the worst person Joey had ever met.

She had no idea what he did when he wasn’t working. She would come home from work to find him blasting classic rock from his room, and he barely turned it down when asked. Or maybe he did turn it down, it was just that he had it up so high in the first place that the music rang in her ears for hours.

And Pacey made Joey realize that Dawson must not have been a normal guy, because she had never had to deal with the constant burping, farting, cursing and lord knew what else he did behind the closed door of his bedroom. It was all just so…

“It’s disgusting,” she told Jen many times and over many coffees.

“He’s a guy,” Jen said, “It’s just an adjustment period. You'll get used to it.”

Joey didn’t believe her. She never wanted to get used to it.

Her patience broke one particular evening when she had just gotten off a late shift to get home to find that Pacey had seemed to invite over half of their fellow residents in for a party.

“It’s not a party,” he told her, “It’s a get together.”

“Pacey, I just want to go to bed. Can’t these people go somewhere else?” she said.

“Oh my god, is this Joey?!”

Joey turned to see a thin, blond woman with a wide grin on her face approach her.

“Yes this would Joey,” Pacey said, and Joey could tell from his face that his opinion of Joey was just as low as hers was of him.

“Hi, I’m Andie,” the woman said and she forcefully shook Joey’s hand.

“Ummmm….”

“My girlfriend,” Pacey said.

“Ah,” Joey said. It had been three weeks since she had moved in and she had begun to think that maybe the girlfriend was just someone Pacey had made up.

“You’re an art student at W— college right?” Andie said and looked at Pacey to confirm it.

“Sort of,” Joey said, “I’m getting my masters in art history, so not completely an art student.”

“Andie’s sort of a prodigy,” Pacey said, and the look on his face made Joey wonder whether he was trying to show her off or prove to Joey that he wasn’t such a bonehead. Joey didn’t buy either reason, Andie must have some sort of screw loose to be dating a guy like Pacey, “She finished undergrad within two years and just got her law degree from Harvard.”

“Then what is she doing with a guy like you?” Joey asked, not even bothering to hide her sarcasm.

“Oh Pacey is really sweet and smart,” Andie said, but she looked down at the ground, obviously uncomfortable with Joey's tone which made Joey feel a little guilty. Obviously, Andie saw a side of Pacey that Joey didn’t and she should maybe be a little less biting in her assessments. But she was tired and there were way too many people in her apartment when all she wanted to do was sleep. She was not in the best state of mind to be diplomatic.

“I’m sorry,” Joey said, “I’m just tired…”

“It’s fine,” Andie said, she turned and whispered something in Pacey’s ear that Joey couldn’t quite catch. Not that she cared to hear what they were saying.

“It was nice meeting you,” Andie said, "I hope to see you around."

Andie than excused herself, and Pacey walked her to the door. Joey watched them at the door, and it seemed like Pacey was trying to plead something to Andie, and Joey once again felt guilty about it.

“Well that was rude, Potter,” Pacey said after Andie left and he walked back over to her.

“I’m sorry, I just...I’m tired,” she said, “you should’ve told me you were having people over.”

“Everyone’s leaving,” Pacey said, not bothering to justify himself any more than that, “I host this thing every month for the building. It’s an obligation."

Joey doesn’t ask what that means, but she had sort of gleaned that Pacey could be a bit of a charmer and might do a few extra things that would account for the low rent on the apartment. Nothing illegal, but Joey was perfectly happy not being in the know. To be honest, the less she knew about her roommate the better.

"Well, you still could've told me about it," she said.

"You're right. I'm sorry," Pacey said.

Joey nodded. The apology would do for now.

“I’m going to bed,” she said, “but if I come out in an hour—”

“Everyone will be gone,” Pacey said, “I promise.”

It ended up taking more than an hour for everyone to leave. She laid in bed and listened to the sounds of people shuffling outside. A part of her thought that she might have been too harsh on Pacey. It was a Saturday night, and they had never really discussed situations like this.

She should probably cut him some slack.

Of course, that went out the window the next morning when he made a quick jibe about her leaving her laundry out on the sofa and she decided he really was the devil.

 

 

  
Of course, the problem Joey knew (and which Jen would constantly point out to her over the summer) was that Pacey had a way of getting under her skin. It was like magic. Dark evil magic. And she wasn’t quite sure if it was just because he was trying to get a rise out of her or if that was just how he was. They were just that incompatible

“It’s a talent,” Jen said after listening to Joey complain for what seemed like the thousandth time, “I’ve never seen anyone get to you like this.”

“Well, it's a terrible talent. I'm about ready to tear his head off,” Joey said, “I'm seriously tempted to just break the lease if something doesn't change soon.”

“I still say it’s just growing pains. Has he done anything really, truly bad?” Jen asked.

“No,” Joey said, “he’s only accidentally walked in while I’m in the shower once, and for the most part he isn't that much of a slob, but just everything that comes out of his mouth makes me want to punch him.”

And Joey most wanted to punch Pacey in the face when he tended to say things that hit Joey way too close to home. It was truly annoying when Pacey was right about things that he had no business being right about. When he finally met Dawson, when Dawson dropped by to give Joey a few things she'd left behind, Pacey had gotten a knowing look as if a light bulb had gone off in his brain. As if he had suddenly figured something out about Joey's relationship, and it bugged her. What crazy notion could Pacey have gotten into his head?

The meeting had not gone well. As Joey had expected, Dawson did not react well to the idea of her living with a guy.

“What are you trying to do, Joey?” Dawson asked when she escorted him out of the apartment, “That guy?”

Despite her own dislike of Pacey, Dawson’s tone struck a nerve, as if he didn’t think he could trust her judgment. So she actually found herself defending her roommate.

“He’s just a guy, Dawson,” Joey said, “and I needed a place as soon as possible. It’s fine. He has a girlfriend. I'm perfectly safe.”

Dawson didn’t seem convinced, he just left and gave a small comment that if she really needed to she could always come back to live with him if she wanted. Joey was tempted, but they still hadn't really talked out their issues so there was no way she could ever consider moving back in with Dawson.

Not that things went much better when she saw Pacey later.

“So that’s the famous Dawson Leery,” Pacey said, and Joey was somewhat surprised at the lack of sarcasm in his tone. It was still plenty derisive though.

“Yeah, so what?” she asked.

“Nothing, I was just thinking that for a guy that’s supposed to be your soulmate, he’s a little pretentious,” Pacey said.

“He’s not pretentious,” Joey said.

“When I told him my favorite movie is Die Hard, he sneered at me,” Pacey said, “Like, what is up with that?”

“He’s just super into film that’s all,” Joey said, “I’m sure you’re a snob about some things.”

“Look, he’s just super full into himself,” Pacey said, “He probably wants space so he can go find himself. That's what all those artist types do.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” she asked, "I mean finding oneself is important for good art."

Pacey looked at her.

“Look, Joey, if I really loved a girl, I wouldn’t let her move out, let alone let her live with some guy she’s never met. If I was Dawson, I would be knocking on that door and begging you to come home,” Pacey said.

“Dawson has more respect for me than that,” Joey said, "He's not the kind of guy to grovel."

“That isn’t respect, Joey. Respect would be actually talking to you about your issues or breaking up with you,” Pacey said.

Joey became suddenly angry. What did Pacey know? What right did he have to talk like he had any idea of what she was going through or what her relationship with Dawson was. They were barely even acquaintances let alone friends.

“You just met the guy,” Joey said, “and you don’t know anything. It’s just a rough patch.”

“Joey, the guy is hanging on because you’re convenient,” Pacey said, but Joey didn’t allow him to go any further. He had no right berating her for her love life when she had noticed a fair amount of discord in his.

“Oh like, the way you constantly wait around for Andie to come by,” Joey said, “How much time are you two spending together really?”

“That’s different,” Pacey argued, “I mean seriously Jo, that guy is already out the door. He just doesn’t have the balls to let you loose.”

Joey had enough, and instead of responding, she just stormed out of the apartment. He didn’t know her and how dare he presume to know anything about Dawson. Dawson didn’t want to break up. To break up would mean throwing decades down the drain as if it was nothing and if that was the case than what did that mean for her life? Where could she go, when the only thing that she had ever counted on was truly gone?

She didn’t speak at all to him when she returned later and she avoided Pacey for most of the rest of the week as well. Mostly because she thought there was very little chance that another conversation of theirs would probably result in her throwing him out the window. But she couldn't quite shake off what Pacey had said. As annoying as it was, he was right in some ways. It was off-putting that Dawson had just let her move out without protest, or that they didn’t see each other anymore, and that they only got together when he called to ask her to tag along to something. How their conversations were short and to the point, where in the past they would lose track of time discussing anything everything. How she no longer found Dawson to be a comfort. He just made her feel more alone.

The space that he had said he needed, hadn’t brought them any closer as she had hoped. It hadn’t fixed the rift that had been growing for months. But Joey was not ready to concede that Pacey was completely right, so on the next Friday night, she went back to what had been her and Dawson’s home, resolved to make things right once and for all.

No more space. She would tell Dawson that she couldn’t do it anymore, and they would talk like they always did, and then she would move back in and she could forget that Pacey Witter even existed.

Joey was surprised that when she arrived there looked to be a party going on inside. Dawson never threw parties, and if he did, wouldn’t he invite her? Joey walked in and squeezed her way between the various partygoers, wandering through the kitchen and living room until she finally spotted Dawson, talking with a short haired, bleach blond girl who was standing remarkably close to Dawson, seeming to run an arm along his bicep. She was too close, too close. And Dawson was looking at her in a way that…

In a way that he had never truly looked at Joey before. And her heart began to thud, and she felt what seemed to be a physical pain. It hurt. It hurt in a way that Joey had never really felt before.

“Dawson!” she shouted when she finally had had enough of watching some stranger make a pass at what was presumably still her boyfriend. She didn't have to shout more than once because Dawson immediately turned and stared at her from across the room.

“Joey,” Dawson said and made his way over, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you, Dawson what is going on?” She could barely hear his reply over the music. This was not the sort of atmosphere she'd been hoping for.

“Just a last minute thing,” Dawson said, “I’d have called you but…”

Joey shook her head. Party or no party. Blonde haired girl or not. She needed to set things straight.

“We need to talk,” she shouted, and before he could respond, she took his hand and guided him to what had been their bedroom and shut the door. The music outside was muffled but still present. But that didn't matter. They were alone now, which mean they could sort everything out.

“Joey, I…”

“Dawson, listen, I want to move back in, I want us to be together I…”

“Joey we talked about this,” Dawson said, “I need a break…And you chose to move out, remember.”

“So, I moved out. And you need a break? From what?” she asked, “Dawson, what are you doing? That party out there is not you! That is something my cretin of roommate would do. Not you. Not…”

“Joey, I just need to figure some things out,” he said.

“And I can’t help you with that?” Joey asked, “I’m your best friend, you don’t think I don't know you?”

“Joey, it’s just that…”

Dawson couldn’t get the words out. He looked to the door and then back at her. Going by his expression, Joey suddenly felt intense regret. She had thought she was ready. But she hadn't prepared for what she suddenly knew what was coming next.

“When I was in L.A. I realized that there was so much I hadn’t experienced and didn’t know. Things that I haven’t felt. And if I want to be a filmmaker, one of the greats, I have to actually live and get experience,” Dawson said, but Joey wasn't really registering what he was saying. Every word sounded like good bye. Why did all of this have to mean he needed space from her?

“And you have to do that without me? I'm not experienced enough for you,” she asked, “Is it because I’m not attractive enough? I’m not sexy enough, like that obvious stripper out there?”

“Eve is not…”

But Joey stopped him.

“I saw the way you looked at her,” Joey said, and she was holding back tears now. This was not how she wanted things to go. Everything in her told her to run out the door, just leave and run away. It was something she had learned from her felon of a father, but she forced herself stay. Something in her told her she had to see it through.

Her hands shook as she reached to the bottom of her shirt and pulled it up over her head and stepped towards him.

“Dawson, I’m yours. I’ve always been yours. I just want to be with you.”

Dawson looked at her and to his credit he never broke eye contact. But even that broke something in her. She couldn’t hide anything from him. He saw through her and for the first time in her entire life, Dawson made her feel like…

Nothing. She felt like nothing. Just a foolish, stupid naive girl.

“Joey, put your shirt back on,” Dawson said.

“Dawson, please…”

“Joey, I can’t. If you’re going to be like this then….”

And that was when Joey knew. Standing in Dawson’s bedroom, wearing nothing but the bra and skirt she had on, she knew that this was the end.

"This can't be happening," she said and Dawson sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Joey..."  
  
"You're breaking up with me," she said, and she can't stop the tears. This was humiliating, but she couldn't stop it.

And when he didn't contradict her, she felt her entire world come crashing down.

 

Joey didn’t know how she made it back to the apartment. Dawson’s words rang through her head over and over again, and the thought that she had been standing in his room, removing her shirt, and begging him to take her back made her realize just how pathetic she had become.

How had her life come to this? When had she based all of her hopes and her dreams off of what one person thought of her? When she was young, and her hometown belittled her for being from the wrong side of the town and her criminal father, she had sworn to never care what anyone else thought. Never let anyone else define her. But she had let Dawson Leery do exactly that.

She had spent the last four years of her life letting Dawson drive hers. And she had done that because she had thought that she was never going to love anyone else.

She warily made her way up the staircase and just barely registered unlocking the door. The lamp by the sofa was on, so she knew that Pacey was home, but she prayed that he stayed in his room. She could not deal with him and whatever petty comment he had for her.

A part of her wanted to rush into her room and never come out, but she just stood there, the exhaustion of the past night finally catching up with her.

“Hey, Joey, listen we need to talk about the drains in the showers because….”

She didn’t look at him, but she felt him stop across the room mid sentence.

“Not now, Pacey,” she said, wiping her eyes, and trying to regain some sense of composure. She was sure she looked like an absolute mess.

“What happened?”His voice was soft, and if she didn't know any better, she could detect what seemed to be some concern.

She looked at him and expected to see some sort of snide look on his face as if he wasn’t being serious. After all why should he care? She annoyed him, just as much as he annoyed her.

“It’s over,” she said.

“I see."

Joey wanted to yell, to scream and to kick and to punch something, and, well, her annoying, obnoxious roommate seemed like a suitable target. It wasn’t like their relationship could get any worse. But she couldn’t get it out, she had nothing left in her to throw, no insult or snide comment. She was too exhausted to even somewhat berate Pacey as a form of catharsis.

“I’m pathetic,” she said, “it’s over and I thought it wasn’t and you should have seen me. Begging for him to take me back to….I don’t know. You probably love seeing me like this.”

Pacey walked towards her, his head held low.

“I don't like seeing you like this. I’m sorry,” he said, and Joey waited for the ball to drop, for him to say something sarcastic or cavalier or flippant. She almost wished he would, to give her an excuse to lash out but she didn't. He was being sincere, and somehow that made her feel even worse.

“Why does it have to be you that sees me like this?” was all she is able to get out in response.

“Well, we live together,” Pacey said, “We’re bound to see each other at our worst.”

She gave a small chuckle in spite of herself.

“Yeah, well, you’re definitely seeing that Pacey,” she said, "and I bet that makes you real pleased with yourself."

Pacey ignored her, and when she made eye contact with him, she was stunned by an almost gentle reassurance in his eyes.

“Look, come here,” he said and he beckoned her to step forward, “You look like you need a hug. I'm really good at hugs.”

It was a strange statement coming from him, but she didn’t have the energy to resist even if she wanted to. Her whole body was screaming for comfort and he was the only one there. So, she forward and said nothing when he wrapped his arms around her. And it suddenly didn’t matter that she was being hugged by Pacey Witter, she just let the sobs that she had been holding in out as Pacey rocked her back and forth.

She didn’t remember anything else after that, except for the ache in her heart and the warmth of Pacey’s arms.

And it was the first time that she thought that maybe Pacey Witter wasn’t so bad after all.

 

 

  
Joey doesn’t remember much from the next day after the official end of her relationship with Dawson. She was surprised to find a box of fresh donuts from the shop down the street on the kitchen counter the next morning. There was no note and Pacey didn’t say anything about it when she saw him later.

She didn’t thank him.

But there was a change in the air of the apartment. They still fought. Over the dishes, and the music, and how Andie’s brother, Jack, would sometimes sleep on the couch uninvited. (‘It’s fine. He’s gay,’ Pacey said, as if that explained everything and resolved Joey’s objection to the uninvited guest). But there was less teeth to the fights, like they were really more mindless squabbles that they engaged in just because it was something they were used to, and not out of any real anger or frustration.

Joey thought it was because Pacey pitied her. The poor, college girl got dumped by her first real boyfriend. This bothered her. She didn’t need pity, especially not from him.

If it had been anyone else, she would have let things stew, but it bugged her that he might be walking on eggshells around her. And she didn't want to be treated like some delicate little flower, so she did the only thing she could do. She confronted him on it.

“Do you pity me?” she blurted out one night, when she saw him sitting at the counter eating what she could only assume was a sugary cereal made for nine year olds.

“What?” he asked, mouth full. She grimaced at his lack of manners but moved on.

“Do you pity me?” she asked again.

Pacey swallowed the cereal and looked at her as if she'd grown a second head. Joey was not amused.

“Why would I pity you?” he asked.

Joey wanted to hit him.

“You know why,” she said, not believing that he could be so dense.

“No, I honestly don’t, but now I might be wondering about your mental state,” he said, dropping the now empty bowl in the sink. A part of her wanted to add a sarcastic comment about cleaning up after himself and not just letting the bowl sit in the sink and collect mold, but she didn’t want the argument to go off on a tangent.

“I was dumped,” she said.

“So?” he asked, "you and most every other adult in this city has been dumped. What's so special about that?"

“He was the love of my life,” Joey said as if he didn’t already understand the situation.

“Not much of a love of your life if he dumped you,” Pacey replied.

She rolled her eyes, he was goading her. He had to be.

“Never mind, I don’t really want to discuss this with you. I just meant, you’ve seemed…nicer lately,” Joey said.

Pacey stared at her for a moment.

“I'm always nice and I don’t pity you,” he said, “and I haven’t been any different from the day you moved in. Me showing you a little bit of sympathy for your situation is not pity.”

Joey didn’t know whether she believed him, but she realized that there probably wasn’t much sense in continuing the argument.

“Good,” she said, “and I don't need your sympathy.”

"What do you need?" Pacey asked, "aside from an attitude adjustment."

She glared.

"The only thing I need from you is to stop annoying me," she retorted.

“Despite what you think, I don’t actively mean to annoy you,” he said, “Though, I have to say you do get sort of cute when you’re angry.”

“Is that a compliment?” she asked.

Pacey shrugged, and plopped himself on the couch, turning on the tv. Joey could hear what sounded like a baseball game, but didn't pay it much mind.

“Take it whatever way you want.”

All Joey could do was stare at him, and she dropped it. This wasn't getting her anywhere. She had thought she would have been back with Dawson by the end of the summer, but now that plan was completely out the window. For better or for worse, her and Pacey were stuck with each other for the foreseeable future; Joey didn’t see much promise in constantly fighting with the person she was living with. They could at least come to an understanding.

She sat next to him and watched a few seconds of what did turn out to be a baseball game. 

“Look, let’s call a truce,” she said, finally breaking the silence.

“A truce? We’re not generals,” Pacey said.

“You know what I mean. I can’t move out any time soon, and while you may take some sick pleasure from our daily trade of insults, I am not going to live like that, not when my life is an absolute mess right now,” Joey said.

Pacey opened his mouth to reply, but he obviously thought better of it because he didn’t end up saying anything. That was a good sign, Joey thought. If she had learned anything over the last month or so of living with Pacey, it was that Pacey barely ever thought before doing anything. It was one of things that drove her nuts about him. Joey always thought things through. She could never just jump into anything.

She didn’t understand how Pacey could live like that.

“Go on,” Pacey said finally.

“So I think we should establish basic ground rules,” Joey said, “aside from the obvious respect of each other’s privacy there is matter of household things and bringing people over….”

“Okay, okay, okay. But like I’m allowed to have my girlfriend over. Don’t blame me because your soulmate dumped you.”

She glared at him and he just shrugged as an apology.

“I call it like I see it,” Pacey said.

“Fine,” Joey said, “but if I hear you two in the middle of the night, I will embarrass you.”

“That’s fair.”

“And I have only one more condition,” Joey said, and she took a breath. She had been thinking about this since he had held her after breakup. It was a ludicrous idea, but she knew it had to be said. For her sanity and for the sake of any sort of future state of harmonious living.

“We cannot under any circumstances develop feelings for one another,” she said.

“What?” Pacey asked, and Joey realized how ridiculous that suggestion was. They had just barely begun to stand one another. They weren’t friends. There was certainly no likelihood that anything else would ever develop.

“I’m just saying, if either one of us gets attracted, that’s a sign that this thing isn’t working anymore,” Joey said, "and we should move out and part ways."

“That won’t be a problem,” Pacey said.

“Right,” Joey replied.

“So we have a deal?” Joey asked.

“Yes, we do,” Pacey said and held out his hand to her, which she promptly shook.

Joey settled back into the couch. She tried to watch the game but she couldn't seem to concentrate or bring herself to care about what was happening. Instead she found herself staring at the door at the corner of the apartment. She hadn’t noticed it during the initial tour, but since moving in she had noticed that Pacey would go in and out at odd times. She hadn’t asked before because she didn’t really want to know about anything that Pacey did behind closed doors, but now that they were on more stable terms, she figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.

“Pacey, what’s behind that door?” she asked, and Pacey looked over to where Joey was pointing, "I don't remember from my tour of the apartment."

“Oh that’s a sort of balcony-slash-sunroom sort of thing,” Pacey said, “I’ve been working on somewhat insulating it. Turning it into a spare room."

“So you can make a third bedroom?” she asked, "Because you're going to have to clear it through me if you want to add another roommate."

“Nah, it’s not big enough for that,” Pacey said, “but, like, I was thinking either a gym or a workshop or something. Who knows?”

“Are you sure? You’re not hiding a body in there are you?” Joey asked.

“Hardly,” Pacey said, “I save that sort of thing for my closet.”

She laughed, the absurdity of the conversation finally getting to her. It was a dark sort of humor, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Pacey could be quite funny, when he wasn’t being annoying.

“You know what, Pacey,” Joey said, “This could actually work.”

Pacey looked at her for moment, and the corner of his mouth ticked up slightly.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “who knows. You and me could even be friends.”

 

Friendship with Pacey seemed like a long way off, Joey thought, but the forged peace seemed to hold steady over the following weeks. And life became easier with each passing day.

Or as easy as it could be while still suffering from a broken heart.

Joey hadn’t known what she expected life to be like after Dawson, but what her life was now was not something she could have ever anticipated. She was forced to re-evaluate almost every past decision. What had she done the last four years of her life?

Jen tried to take her out to get her mind off of it and Pacey even let her tag along to a movie with him and Andie and her brother. It was not quite the clear break that she had been hoping for, and maybe it was because Jack was gay, but Joey felt a bit like the third wheel through the whole thing.

She had always prided herself on not being the typical girl, but now going through her first real heartache, the idea of settling on the couch with a gallon of ice cream (peanut butter fudge) and watching a sappy movie sounded pretty damn near perfect.

So the next evening that she didn’t have class or work and Pacey was out, she put on her favorite pair of pajamas, tied her hair back and settled on the couch. She had lined up a perfect slate of movies starting with Sleepless in Seattle. It was a movie Dawson hated. He would tell her that if she had to dip into that much maligned genre she should stick with something like _When Harry Met Sally_. A better film, he’d say.

But Dawson wasn’t here, and she took some delight in the idea of doing something that would annoy him. It didn’t matter, of course, that Dawson would never know about this, and it wasn't like what movies she liked was all that big a deal. But it was somewhat cathartic to being going against the grain. Doing something just for herself. Which was, she guessed, a start.

She had just started the movie and was just about to get up to grab the ice cream when Pacey came through the door. She wasn’t going to say anything, hoping that he would just make a hasty retreat to his room and she could be alone in her misery.

But he didn’t go to his room, nor did he say anything. There was no petty comment about her being in her pajamas before to 9 p.m, he didn't seem to register her presence at all. She debated whether she should talk to him or not.

“Pacey?” she asked, she purposely made her voice loud and seemingly obnoxious, “Hello? Earth to Pacey?”

He turned and looked at her and it was like he had just realized that she was there. He scratched his head and sighed.

“Well, you and me are in the same boat, Potter. She dumped me.”

Joey didn't have much to say to that. 

“Andie?”

“Yeah,” He said, and he tossed his keys on the counter.

“We want different things, she told me,” Pacey continued, and Joey could almost taste the bitterness in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” she said and Pacey looked at her as if he was questioning her sincerity. She shook her head, “I mean it.”

“Yeah, well…”

Pacey stopped mid-sentence, and Joey took one look at the couch and then back at Pacey. She let out a sigh. Turned out she wasn't going to get the mopey night alone that she wanted. 

“Come here, Pacey,” she said, first beckoning him to come over and then taking his hand and leading him to the couch. He sat down and she made her way to the kitchen as she had originally planned and pulled out the ice cream and then pulled open the drawer where she took two spoons and offered one to Pacey.

“What’s this?” he asked looking at her.

“It’s called ice cream and movies,” Joey said, “people tell me it’s a good way to deal with being dumped.”

“I see,” Pacey said, “So what’s the movie?”

“Sleepless in Seattle,” Joey said.

“Really?” Pacey asked.

Joey side-eyed him. If he gave her crap about her movie selection, than she didn't care about him being dumped, she would just banish him to his room.

“It’s supposed to be a sappy movie,” Joey said, “What kind of movie would you want to see?”

“If it was me,” Pacey said, “I would want something that reflected my life. Like a disaster movie. Like The Day After Tomorrow.”

Joey looked at Pacey from the corner of her eyes.

“How are we supposed to mope to a disaster movie?” Joey asked.

“Easy, you just watch and laugh because while your life is a mess, at least you don’t have to worry about an instant freeze or a pack of rabid wolves set free from the zoo,” Pacey said.

Joey didn't have rebuttal.

“Tell you what,” Pacey said, “we can watch your movie and then mine.”

She smiled at him. It wasn't a bad idea.

“Deal.”

Joey shifted in her seat on the couch and looked over at Pacey.

“So we finally have something in common. Other than an address,” she said.

“Yeah,” Pacey said, "who'd a thought. Still sucks though."  
  
Joey agreed.

“I really am sorry,” Joey said, “I know I joked that she was too good for you, but I’m sorry. You two were really good together.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes you just have to let go,” Pacey said, “I probably deserved it. It still hurts.”

Joey nodded, and looked at the tub of as of yet untouched ice cream. Watching a movie alone seemed doable, but with Pacey here she felt a bit awkward about it. She wished she knew what she could say, but all she could think of was…

“So what do we do now?” Joey asked.

Pacey looked over at her.

“The only thing we can do Potter, we have to move onward and forward. Can’t go back.”

He stared at her and offered a smile.

“Move forward, huh,” Joey said, "sounds easier than it probably is."

“I mean that is how I see it. I can’t change things so…”

“You shouldn’t even try?” Joey asked, "but you still care about her. I mean, I don't know the two of you that well but maybe she'll come back around."

“Whenever I try, things seem to blow up in my face. I’m sure you don’t understand. You probably always have together,” Pacey said.

Joey didn't have the heart or the desire to correct him. She turned back to the movie, but she found no comfort in it The romanticism of the movie was somewhat grating to her, like nails on the chalkboard. She probably should have chosen something depressing like a melodrama, Steel Magnolias would probably have been a better choice. She turned back to Pacey.

“I understand, Pacey. I/m the girl who prostrated myself before my ex in the middle of a party,” Joey said, “I’m sure your break up with Andie was much more dignified.”

Pacey laughed and turned to her. Joey felt a bit disconcerted after it seemed like he was staring just a bit too long. He finally broke the silence.

“You know, Potter, you and me we should make a pact.”

“A pact?”

“Yes, a pact to go along with our truce. We mope tonight but then tomorrow, we are going to go out there and do something with our lives,” Pacey said, "Not just sit around here and feel sorry for ourselves."

Joey scoffed.

“I am doing something with my life,” Joey said, in protest.

“I mean get back out there,” Pacey said, “because honestly, you and me, we’re not doing so well.”

She couldn’t exactly disagree. She was sitting home on a Friday night ready to pig out and turn off her brain with her former nemesis and roommate. Not exactly a high point of her life.

“Fine, a pact,” she said, “on this ice cream. We'll move forward.”

“No looking back,” Pacey said, “Let’s live a little Potter.”

They didn’t have glasses to toast, but they tapped spoons together, sealing a promise to move on. Moving on seemed like a strange proposition to Joey, but she settled back into the couch, and she felt she could finally focus on the movie. She smiled over at Pacey as he scooped a large chunk of ice cream.

And she laughed to herself at the sight they made. A couple of losers, just trying to push the heartache away.

 

 

  
Joey was happy to find that every day seemed to get easier. The ache in her heart began to dull and as if that wasn’t enough, her relationship with Pacey had improved  by leaps and bounds. She didn’t know if heartbreak had humbled him or just the fact that they were both going through the same situation made things that had once rubbed her the wrong way now almost endearing if not just tolerable.

It was the little things, and she had to admit that they weren’t entirely new. One, Pacey was funny. It was odd, but what had started as genuine fights and muted to small slights had now progressed to good-natured banter. She often found herself laughing at the end, and Pacey was usually smiling too. There was a distinct possibility, she thought during one of her more self aware moments, that it had been just her general unhappiness with her life had caused her to exaggerate Pacey’s faults in her mind.

Second, Pacey had a way of thinking that was absolutely alien to her. Mostly in that he didn’t seem to think at all, he just did things. Whether it was to spontaneously decide to paint one end of the living room wall, or just peeling it back to reveal even more exposed brick. ‘I like the look,’ he told her when she had come home to see him in painter’s clothes and pieces of drywall strewn about all over the floor.

It was a way of living that was completely foreign to Joey. She didn’t know how he could live like that.

“Well my father would say I’m not living,” Pacey said when she mentioned it to him, “He says I’m just mucking about. I should get a real job, get married.”

Joey noted there was a slight darkness that seemed to come on his expression every time he mentioned his family, but she didn’t broach it. They may be on good terms and almost even friends, but neither was ready to really divulge anything serious.

“Well, I just don’t get it,” Joey said, “and if I’m honest, I’m a bit envious. I can never just do anything. I always seem to get stuck.”

“I wouldn’t be,” Pacey said, “I don’t think my old man is entirely wrong.”

Joey doesn’t know enough to protest but she does anyway, but Pacey just waved her off. He doesn’t believe her.

And even though he was a boy, he wasn’t that bad of a roommate all things considered. She was maybe even growing accustomed to having him hanging around the apartment. It was nice to not be entirely alone. She was at any given moment, actually pretty grateful for having Pacey around. She could barely think of a reason anymore to be displeased with anything about him.

That was until the day she happened to look at the utility bills for the previous month and she realized that something wasn’t quite right. Per the last statement, Joey was paying nowhere near half of the entirety of the bill and that didn’t sit right with her.

Unfortunately, Pacey was not around for her to demand an explanation. In fact, she had no idea where he was. It was too early for the bar where he worked to be open or for a night on the town. She became even more confused when she noticed that his autumn jacket was still on the coat hanger. He never left the apartment without it, even though it was incredibly worn and Joey was pretty sure she spotted a hole or two on it.

His bedroom door was just slightly ajar, and one glance in confirmed that he was not in fact in there. Joey sighed. How convenient, just when she absolutely needed to talk to him, he wasn't around. He had to be around here somewhere, and she was going to find him and give him a piece of her mind.

When she went out the door, she saw him coming out of the apartment across the hall, toolbox in hand.

“What were you doing?” she asked.

“The Dovers had a leak in their shower. I fixed it,” Pacey said.

“Why would you be fixing someone else’s sink. Isn’t there maintenance guy to handle stuff like that?”

“Sometimes I help out, particularly if it’s after hours. Let Hector spend some time with his family,” Pacey said, “Besides, Mr. Kobeck deducts quite a bit off the rent in exchange.”

“So you do this a lot?” Joey said.

“Yep,” Pacey said, and opened the door to the apartment to allow Joey in.

“I always knew there was a catch with how low rent was, but I always thought….”

Pacey looked at her.

“What did you think, Potter?” Pacey asked.

“I don’t know, something criminal or at the very least sketchy,” Joey said.

“I’m offended Potter. You should know me better than that by now.”

Joey smiled.

“I’m sorry.”

Pacey shook his head. It was all in good fun. They stood awkwardly for a moment, until Joey remembered why she had been looking for him the first place.

“Pacey, why have you been paying the majority of the utilities?”

Pacey looked at her a moment.

“What?”

“I saw the electric bill, and I am paying just barely a quarter of it.”

“Oh,” Pacey said, “Well, I always did that. And like you never asked to see the bill.”

Joey looked at him.

“Why are you so upset about it,” Pacey said, “I mean I should be the one complaining. You should be thanking me.”

“Thank you? I don’t want to owe you anything. The apartment belongs to both of us, Pacey,” Joey said, “and since I’m staying here long term now, I don’t want there to be any sense of resentment. It's not like I can't afford it.”

“I wouldn’t resent you for that, Jo,” Pacey said.

She looked at him. He usually referred to her as ‘Potter’ or Joey. It wasn’t that she hated it, it was just new. It was almost endearing.

“I just want to pay my fair share,” Joey said, “You shouldn’t shoulder things all on your own. We’re in this together. That's what partners do.”

"We're partners?" Pacey asked.

"In a way Pacey," Joey said, "I'm a grown woman, I don't need to be taken care of."  
  
Pacey smiled at her.

“I thought I was doing you a favor. But if you insist...”

"I insist, and I’m going to help you with the handy stuff as well,” Joey said.

Pacey raised an eyebrow. He didn’t believe that she could do stuff like that.

“I lived with my sister. She runs a bed and breakfast, I’d have to respond to guest calls all the time,” Joey said.

“Okay,” Pacey said, “You know there is something you could help me with, as a friend. It's a little side project of mine.”

Joey shrugged.

“Sure, we’re friends.”

And they shook on it.

 

 

When Joey had offered to help with Pacey’s project, she hadn’t expected it to be located in a shipyard. And she certainly didn’t expect to be staring at a heap of fiberglass and wood that may have once upon a time been a sailboat but now was just—

Well it was a hunk of junk.

And she said as much to Pacey.

“Pacey, what is this?”

“This is my girl,” Pacey said, barely disguising the pride in his voice. Joey looked at the heap and wasn't sure just exactly what he was proud of.

“Your girl?” Joey asked and she rolled her eyes. For someone who often liked to play the cool guy, Pacey Witter was awfully cheesy.

“Yep,” Pacey said, “I bought her right after I got my GED. As a gift to myself. And I’ve been working on her ever since. Of course, things slowed down when I was with Andie. But now…”

“Andie wasn’t into sailing?”

“More like didn’t have time,” Pacey said, and if he was still bitter about the end of his relationship he didn't show it. He popped open the tool box he had brought with them from the apartment and began digging through it.

“So what are we doing here now?” Joey asked.

“We are going to get my girl ready for the summer,” Pacey said.

“What’s in summer?” Joey asked.

“I’m going to sail her into the open sea,” Pacey said, “Leave all this behind. And just start over.”

Joey smiled at the fanciful notion. She understood the impulse, but to be honest, Joey thought it was going to take a whole lot longer than eight months to turn the pile of rubbish into a boat that was safe to put in the water, never mind actually sail it on open water. But she still somewhat pitied him from the break up so she decided to humor him.

“So does she have a name? Other than that she’s your girl?” Joey asked.

“Not yet,” Pacey said, “but it’ll come. It has to be just right.”

He handed her a buffer and pointed at the side of the boat.

“Now, are you going to help me or not?” Pacey asked.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” Joey asked and took the buffer and began to scrape the side of what she could only assume was the hull.

They worked in a sort of calm silence, and maybe things were better that way. But if she and Pacey were going to move forward with this new sense of openness and—dare she say camaraderie— she thought it would probably benefit to try and talk about something other than broken hearts and whose turn it was to take the trash out.

“You know. I really admire you Pacey,” Joey said.

“For what?” he asked.

“This, your work at the apartment. I’ve never met someone like you. I mean you do all this for a whole building, you work at the bar, and you have this sailboat.”

“I would hardly say that,” Pacey said, “I work at a bar, I help the maintenance guy out in order to lower my rent. That's hardly altruism.”

“But you have passion,” Joey said, “I’ve never had a passion before.”

Pacey didn’t seem to buy that for a minute.

“Really?”

“I mean, when I was younger I was sort of into art,” Joey said, “But never as anything serious...”

“You still do,” Pacey said, “If I recall, I did see an easel when you moved in.”

“Yeah, but I had school, and that’s just a hobby. I would never actually pursue it.”

“I say you should do what you want,” Pacey said, “Why do you think I’m doing this?”

He gestured to the sailboat.

“Yeah, I mean, but after that. You can’t live on a sailboat in the middle of the sea…”

“Sounds like a challenge, Potter,” Pacey said, “And as for your art, isn't that what you're studying. That sure sounds like you're pursuing it."

“I study art history. That’s different,” Joey said, “As far as actual art. I do a bit of painting, but it’s nothing. I thought about art school but…”

Pacey had moved on to sanding some of the various lumber that he had stockpiled by the boat. Joey peered at Pacey out of the corner of her eye, and smiled.

“Sounds like you gave up,” Pacey said.

Joey looked down.

“Maybe I did,” Joey said, "but at the time I had other things. I had a relationship, art just fell to the wayside."

“Well, maybe you should take it back up again, see where it takes you,” Pacey said.

“Really?”

“Hey, if I can turn this ‘hunk of junk’ as you call it, into a first class vessel, you can pick up a paintbrush and paint a masterpiece,” Pacey said, and his smile was contagious, because Joey matched it instinctively.

“I’m not sure you can,” Joey said, “but sure, I’ll see what I can do.”

They spent the rest of the time buffing the boat and patching a hole on the deck. Joey didn’t think much of the conversation, except for a few weeks later when she came home to find a fresh small canvass and a new set of paintbrushes on the table a note that read simply:

_‘A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.’ Onward and Forward Potter.'_

 

 

Midterms were tougher than usual and along with the rush of the end of the season at work, time seemed to move a little slower and her days and nights became mixed up.

It was why one morning, when she got to up to get ready prior to class, she barely noticed anything as she made her way to the bathroom to wash up. Maybe if she had been more aware she would have heard the water running, but she didn’t, and so just at the moment that she was scrubbing at the back of her molars, the sound of the shower curtain being pulled back caused her to jump back.

“Can you hand me a towel?” Pacey asked from the shower.

Joey’s eyes widened.

“Pacey, what the hell?” Joey exclaimed and she reached behind her for the door, “Are you naked?”

“Well, I was taking a shower,” Pacey said. Joey instinctively put a hand over eyes and tried to avoid looking at Pacey as much as possible.

“And you let me come in here,” Joey said.

“How did I let you come in here?”

“You could’ve locked the door! Or said something. I'm pretty sure I knocked before coming in.”

"I'm not sure you did," Pacey shrugged, “Look, it’s not that big a deal, now could you hand me a towel?”

Joey groaned and pulled one the towels from the rack and handed it to him before quickly rushing out the door. She couldn’t even look at him when he emerged later. She hadn’t actually seen anything, but the point was she could have, and her imagination ran a bit wild when he walked out wrapped in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. They may be friends, but they should probably have another discussion about boundaries.

She had just learned to like and accept him as her friend. There was no use for any further complications of their living arrangements.

Luckily, there was a knock on the door to distract her from any further contemplation on the subject. Of course, there was no respite behind the door because it was none other than Abby Morgan standing on the other side.

To say that Abby Morgan was the last person that Joey wanted to see in any situation was an understatement. The girl had somewhat tormented Joey all through high school and Joey could not for the life of her imagine what would have brought Abby Morgan to her door this morning.

“Hello Joey,” Abby said, “Can I come in, or do you want me to skulk here in your doorway?”

Joey didn’t have time answer one way or another because Abby pushed her way past Joey and into the apartment.

“How cute,” Abby said and by the tone Joey could tell that Abby meant it as derisively as possible.

“What are you doing here, Abby?” Joey asked.

Abby opened her mouth to answer when Pacey came out of his room, thankfully fully dressed, though his hair was still somewhat damp from the showers. Abby’s eyes widened and Joey shook her head. She could just imagine what Abby was thinking and she didn’t want her to get any strange ideas.

“Hey Jo, about earlier…” Pacey started but Abby interrupted him.

“Who are you?” Abby asked, her voice loud and Pacey stopped and stared at her for a moment.

“What?” Pacey asked, “I’m Pacey. I live here.”

Abby looked to Joey, who could do nothing but nod.

“Well, tha's interesting," Abby looked at Joey, who quickly looked away and so Abby turned back to Pacey, "Can you leave us for a minute?” 

“Hey, I’m not going to let some stranger order me around in my own home,” Pacey protested.

“It’s fine, Pacey. Just give us a minute,” Joey said, if she let Pacey get into with Audrey than she would never leave and Joey did not want to deal with the migraine that was sure to result..

Pacey looked at her and she mouthed a silent apology to him. When he was out of sight and back in his room, Abby shot her a look, and Joey just knew what was coming next.

“I heard you and Dawson were done, but I never pegged for you to be one who moved on that quickly,” Abby said, "I'm almost impressed."

“Oh no, no, no, no,” Joey said, “Pacey and I aren’t together. We’re just roommates.”

“Sure,” Abby said.

“So what are you doing here Abby?” Joey asked.

“I’m getting married.”

Abby obviously expected a bigger reaction but Joey couldn’t indulge her. Why she should care that Abby was getting married? 

“Okay, congratulations,” Joey said.

“And I want you to be a bridesmaid.”

What in the hell? Joey thought. Inadvertently walking in on her roommate in the shower and now having her high school nemesis asking her to be a part of her wedding was a bizarre start to her day. Honestly, at this point she might as well as a set up a lunch date with her father if things kept up like this.

“Why?” Joey asked.

Abby smiled, it was sickeningly sweet.

“Well, I need an even eight girls to even out the bridal party, and you were the only one I could think of,” Abby said.

“Really? Abby we haven't spoken in years.”

“I mean, you are one of the only girls I have ever actually liked,” Abby said.

If Abby Morgan had liked her, she had had a weird way of showing it back in high school, Joey thought.

“Look, Jen will be there too,” Abby said, sensing that Joey wasn't convince, “I told her I would ask you and I just figured, given your financial situation you would need enough heads up. I have certain expectations for everyone involved in my wedding.”

Of course she did, Joey was not looking forward to how much money she would have to spend to meet Abby's expectation.

“Please, Joey. You could even bring that roommate of yours if you must,” Abby said.

“Why would I…?”

“Whatever. Are you in or not?” Abby asked.

Joey shook her head.

“Fine,” Joey said, she knew she would come to regret this decision, “Send me the details.”

“Great,” Abby said. Joey pursed her lips together. And with that, Abby left just as quickly as she came.

“Well, she’s a real piece of work,” Pacey said, when Joey finally gave him the all clear.

"I'm sorry, that's Abby Morgan. She's a handful," she said.

"Yeah, well, I hope that her being here isn't a common occurrence," Pacey said, "I am not going to be sent to my room as if I'm five years old."  
  
"It's not likely," Joey said.

They both just stood and shuffled their feet.

“So, we good?” Pacey asked, breaking the silence.

Joey gave him a strange look.

“Earlier, when you almost saw the full monte?” Pacey waved his hands gesturing over himself.

She laughed. He always did this, he seemed to zap any tension out of situation. How did he do that? Since when did she start to find him so endearing?

“Don’t flatter yourself, Pacey.”

 

 

Joey hadn’t expected for them to do anything for Christmas. She hadn’t even bothered to ask Pacey whether he celebrated it. But she came home from work about three weeks prior to the holiday to find Pacey setting up a real live Christmas tree.

He hadn’t done much for Thanksgiving, and Joey had learned after that Pacey’s relationship with his family was strained to say the least.

She had felt bad leaving him alone, but she wasn’t quite ready to invite him to come home with her. Bessie would have had too many questions. It was stupid, Joey knew, but she had a hard time explaining her and Pacey’s friendship to people. At times, she had difficulty explaining it to herself.

She couldn’t explain how they had gotten so close so quickly, or when Pacey had come to be the first person she would call when she was in a bind.

And he always came.

“Where did you get a tree?” Joey asked.

“I have a friend who works at a lot, he got me one at a good price. What do you think?” Pacey said.

“It’s fine,” Joey said and she began going through a bag of ornaments on the table.

“Did you buy these?” she asked.

“Yeah, at the dollar store on tenth,” Pacey said, carefully stringing lights through the branches.

“You have the Christmas decoration tastes of a nine year old,” she remarked. Pacey shrugged.

“You know what they say about people who stay childish at heart," he said.

“They never leave their mother’s basement?” Joey quipped.

“Good one, Potter, you been saving that,” Pacey said.

“Maybe, I just keep various insults around for a snowy day,” she said and smiled at him, and the grin on his face widened.

When Pacey finished stringing the lights through the tree, he plugged it in and they both stared at the tree for a moment.

“It’s like a scene out of a Dickens novel,” Joey said, “We just need the fireplace.”

“Dickens? I would think you’d have a better reference than that, Jo,” Pacey said, "like Thomas Kinkade or Norman Rockwell or something."

She nudged him.

“Are those the only famous artists you know? That’s rich, coming from a guy who I’m sure has never read anything that wasn’t an Archie comic.”

“Hey those are great. That is fine literature if you ask me,” Pacey said.

“Sure.”

She sat by the coffee table just in front of the tree and began to untangle the mess of hooks used for the ornaments. She handed them to Pacey as she sorted through them and he began placing them throughout the tree.

“So who would you pick?” Joey asked.

“What?”

Joey smiled.

“Betty or Veronica. Who would you pick, Pacey?” she asked.

Pacey paused and seemed to dwell on it for a moment.

“I was always partial to Cheryl,” he said, “or Josie. Because she would get rich and famous and keep me in the lifestyle that I've always deserved.”

Joey turned up her lips at that.

“I think that’s avoiding the question,” she said.

“Yeah, well I was never fond of Archie himself,” Pacey said, “I’m more of a Jughead if I say so for myself.”

“You do eat like him,” Joey said and the sound of their laughter mixing together was pleasant.

“Who would you pick?” Pacey asked.

“What, Jughead or Archie?” Joey asked.

“No, Betty or Veronica.”

Joey looked at Pacey.

“I don’t know. I think Betty.”

"That figures," Pacey said.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Betty asked.

"Nothing, I mean girl-next-door pining over boy-next-door," Pacey said, "I could see why you'd relate to that."

Joey cocked her head to the side as she got up to place a golden ball up towards the top of the tree.

"I don't think that's so bad. She's loved him the longest," Joey said.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she’s the One,” Pacey said, “You can think someone is The One, but that is just because you don’t know any better.”

Joey looked at him for a moment. He was right, she knew. She couldn’t help but think of Dawson. Her whole life she had thought there had been no one else. He was The One. But looking at Pacey and remembering trudging through the street after Dawson had rejected her, she suddenly wasn’t so sure.

“I would still side with Betty,” Joey said, “but only if she wants him.”

Pacey smiled.

“Well, as the eternal sidekick, I would pick Betty too,” Pacey said.

Joey laughed.

“Betty and Jughead? That’s an odd pair,” Joey ribbed him, and she thought it was cute the way he bit his lower lip. She had had a lot of those thoughts lately. That he was cute.

“Not unlike us, don’t you think?” Pacey said.

She didn’t answer. But she just met his gaze for a moment. There was something in the way he looked at her that she couldn’t (or didn’t want to) name.

“Who’d a thought we'd be friends, Pacey? I would’ve sworn that I would’ve killed you by now,” Joey said.

“And you thought I was a serial murderer,” Pacey said.

She gave him a friendly nudge. Then, she stared at the tree.

“I’m really glad I’m here Pacey,” she said, “with your warts and all.”

He smiled at her.

“Yeah, well I’m glad you’re here too, Potter,” he said.

 

There was nothing remarkable about the pamphlet, but nonetheless it caught Joey’s eye on the last day before the end of winter term. She had been perusing them while waiting to meet with her advisor, to plan out the remainder of her degree.

It was for an art fellowship in Rome, and it was something that Joey never would have considered before. Struggling to not only get into college but qualify for the grants and scholarships she needed to afford it was one thing, and that had been necessary for her to have any future that was better than the situation she came from. This was something that was completely unnecessary and she didn’t have to do it. She would be fine without it.

But Pacey’s words and the note he left stuck with her. The idea of trying something new, doing the unexpected. Hadn’t she begun to feel that she had left too many stones unturned in her life? She’d avoided any real challenge to herself.

And why was she even looking at something like this? This was crazy. She couldn’t go to Rome to study art. That was preposterous. She had a job and a life and friends here.

But she grabbed the pamphlet anyway and she almost forgotten about it when she left it on the table. Of course Pacey asked her about it later, while she was making herself something to eat in the kitchen.

“What’s this?” he asked, picking up the pamphlet and leafing through it.

“It’s an art program,” Joey said.

“It’s in Rome,” he replied.

She nodded.

“So you’re going to apply,” Pacey said, and it was a statement, not a question.

“Oh no,” Joey was quick to reply. “I just was looking at it and I guess I accidentally kept it.”

She could tell that Pacey didn’t believe her.

“I mean, that's for serious artists. I’m an art history major, I could never…”

“Who told you that?” Pacey asked.

She tilted her head.

“Nobody,” she said, "It's self evident."

He looked at her again, and he seemed to think for a moment, before a somewhat stern expression fell over his face. He was going to fight her on this and she didn’t quite understand why. It wasn’t like he was going to apply for a scholarship so what the hell did care?

“Do you want to do it?” Pacey asked.

Joey looked at him for a moment.

“It’s not a question of wanting, Pacey, I’m not qualified,” she replied.

“I think that’s an excuse,” Pacey said, “Look Potter, we’ve been living together for what has it been, six months now?”

Joey nodded.

“Sure,” she said, “but what does that have to do with this?”

Pacey leaned over the counter and stared at her for a long moment.

“That fellowship terrifies you. You want to do it, but it scares you,” Pacey said.

Joey looked down. He pegged her straight.

“Everyone is scared of rejection, Pacey,” she said.

“You’re not scared of being rejected, Potter,” Pacey replied, “You’re scared that you’ll actually get in.”

Joey couldn’t say anything to that. She wanted to argue with him that he was wrong, that he had no idea what he was talking about. But the fact of the matter was that she couldn’t. He was right. The idea of completely upending her life was absolutely terrifying. But she didn’t want to give him the pleasure, so she just focused on smearing the peanut butter on the bread.

“You picked that up because you wanted it,” Pacey said, “Go for what you want.”

She couldn’t make eye contact with him.

“It’s not that simple,” Joey said.

“Yes, Joey, it is.”

“Didn’t we make a promise to each other?” Pacey asked, “About moving forward.”

“Yeah, but that doesn't have anything to do with this,” she said.

“Move forward, Potter,” Pacey said, and he flashed her one last smile before leaving her there staring at the pamphlet.

‘Move forward, huh?’ she thought. As she glanced through the pamphlet again, she took a deep breath.

It wasn’t like she was going to get in anyways. But Pacey was right, she did want it. She wanted it more than anything else ever in her life, except…

But that was an impossibility…

So she would settle for this.

 

It was two days before Christmas, and the frenzy from school and work had morphed into the frenzy of Christmas shopping and packing to go home. She hadn’t seen much of Pacey at all. He had been working on ‘The Room’ as he had dubbed it. He still refused to tell her whether he had decided to turn it into a workshop or gym, or some weird man cave that apparently were all the rage these days, but it wasn’t like she pushed to hard. As long as he wasn’t hammering or drilling at night when she was trying to sleep, she was fine with whatever he wanted to do with it.

She had offered to help like she did with the sailboat but he shot her down. "I like working on it," he'd told her. She tried to pester him but he wouldn’t budge. Rather, he just asked her how the application was going for the fellowship and she would deflect and he would tease her until they finally settled into her showing him a few of the pieces she was thinking of submitting for the portfolio portion of application.

It was comfortable and exciting, and Joey had almost forgotten about what life was like before she had moved into Apartment 407C. What had she done before? Who had she bounced ideas off of like this? With Dawson, they had focused on Dawson's films, never anything Joey was working on. At the time it hadn't bothered her, but now, she felt a little cheated. Even if her and Dawson did eventually get back together, she didn't want to give up on this.

She didn't want to give up Pacey.

When did Pacey Witter become such an indispensable part of her life?

Joey didn’t want to dwell on that. She had enough on her plate with the fellowship application, school, and preparing for the holidays. She couldn’t think about that.

She didn’t notice the bow on the door to ‘The Room’ at first, she was too busy sorting through the mail. But she did notice it the moment she turned to turn on the lights of the tree. She stared at it for a moment, confused. She walked over and noticed that just under the wreath was a square white card that simply read.

“Open me.”

She turned the knob and her breath caught when she stepped through the door. The Room was not a workshop or a gym or a disgusting man cave. It wasn’t a room for Pacey at all.

It was an art studio. A wooden easel was at the end of the room with a makeshift bookshelf behind it. Strings of twinkling lights were strung across the ceiling and along the wall of paned windows. When she got closer to the easel she noticed that the canvas on the easel was not blank, rather, in a light gray paint, it read in cursive: “Onward and Forward”.

“So, what do you think?”

Joey turned and threw up her hands when she saw Pacey standing at the doorway

“Pacey, what is all this?”

“This,” he gestured around, “is your new art studio.”

Joey was at a loss for words.

“I thought this was going to be your workshop or a gym or…”

“I couldn’t decide,” Pacey said, “and then I thought, you have that application you have to prepare for and I’m a bit tired of the paint smell in the living room, and hey, the apartment has a nice view. I figured it could be inspiration.”

“But this was your room. I could never…”

Pacey held up his hand to stop her.

“You haven’t seen the best part,” he said and walked over, put his hands to her shoulders and turned her to the back wall facing the windows.

“Pacey, what am I staring at?”

It was just a wall of exposed brick painted white.

“That is site of your next great masterpiece,” Pacey said, “I figure just a canvass wouldn’t be enough for where you’re headed.”

“You want me to the paint the wall?” she asked.

“It’s called progress, Potter.”

Joey looked down at the floor. She was absolutely speechless.

“Well, you just put me entirely to shame,” Joey said, “I mean, how could I ever compete with this.”

“You got me a gift too, Potter?” Pacey said, “I’m touched.”

She rolled her eyes and ignored his teasing as she walked out of the studio and went into her room to find the simple rectangular package on her bed. She had just wrapped it the day before, it had been an impulse gift. She had been going to give it to him before she left on Christmas Eve, but now would have to do.

When she came back out she saw Pacey standing at the doorway to the studio.

“Here. It’s not a room, but I saw it at an antique shop down the road and I thought of you,” she said and handed the box to him.

Pacey thanked her and unwrapped the gift to reveal a simple, long wooden plaque and stared at it for a moment. She saw him take a deep breath.

“Do you like it?” Joey asked, she was nervous. It was probably too presumptuous of her.

Pacey shook his head read the inscription etched in wood and painted a bright teal.

“True Love?” he asked looking at her.

“I thought it could be the name for your girl,” Joey said.

Pacey pushed his bottom lip up and nodded.

“Pretty schmaltzy,” he said.

Joey laughed.

“Well, you’re a pretty schmaltzy guy,” Joey said but then she looked away, “It’s fine if you don’t want to use it…”

“No, it’s…it’s perfect. True Love, that’s my girl.” Pacey's eyes brightened and Joey felt warm at the way he looked at her.

Joey laughed, partially in relief, partially because she couldn’t help it. She seemed to laugh a lot when Pacey was around. She threw her head back and paused when she noticed something hanging just above the doorway.

“Pacey, is that mistletoe?” Joey asked, pointing to the small sprig hanging above the doorway.

Pacey looked up.

“Oh yeah, it’s a joke, or contingency plan in the event that I ever bring a supermodel home,” he said.

“Right,” Joey said.

“Don’t worry about it, you don’t have to,” Pacey said, “I mean it’d be awkward…”

Joey shook her head and stepped closer.

“And have you hold it over my head, forget about it,” Joey said, and she leaned up and pressed her lips to his cheek.

Pacey murmured something softly when she pulled back and she stared at him for a moment.

“Did you just say ‘uh oh’?” she asked.

“Oh, I forgot, I think I have to go see Mrs. Danvers on the second floor and install a new ceiling fan,” Pacey said, and he looked away quickly as if he needed to recompose himself.

“Okay,” Joey said, and watched as he strode to the door.

“Hey, Pacey,” she said stopping him just before he walked out.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Thank you. And Merry Christmas.”

 

  
The holidays and New Year passed quickly. Joey couldn’t quite tell where the time was going. Even when there was a surprise blizzard that had holed them up for a couple of days, nothing had seemed to slow down.

Which was unfortunate because it meant that she only had about a week left to get her application in for the Rome Fellowship. It was almost done, but she just wanted to finish one more piece to include and do one last read through of the personal essay.

Her nerves were getting to her and when she got tired of staring at the words on the computer screen, she decided to get out of the apartment and walk around, release the nerves.

It was on her way back from the market, only a few simple things in the bag hanging from her arm, that she saw Dawson standing outside a cafe just a block away from home.

Joey debated whether she should talk to him. She had been in touch a couple of times over the past few months, but things had been awkward. He also had been invited to be in the bridal party for Abby’s wedding, and so she had seen him around when she met with Abby to discuss what would be required. The whole affair was exhausting, and Joey couldn’t wait for the wedding to just be over, so she could move on with her life.

While no longer feeling the sting of rejection, she and Dawson were nowhere near the closeness that they had once had. Joey wondered if it would ever be what it used to be.

Probably not.

The point of whether she should say anything at this particular junction was quickly rendered moot as Dawson noticed her coming up the street and waved her over.

“Joey!” he said, and she smiled back.

“Dawson, what are you doing here?” she asked.

“I’m just in the area with a friend,” Dawson said, “They’re in the restroom, I’m just waiting.”

“That’s good,” Joey said and she self-consciously pushed her hair behind her ears. She was nervous. It wasn’t like she was expecting anything from him, but there was always the thought of what had been lost.

It was strange that she was able to speak to him as if they were just friends who lost touch.

“I haven’t seen you in awhile,” Dawson said, “How’ve you been?”

“Okay, it’s the usual work, school,” Joey said. She debated telling him about Rome but held back. Setting out to do something that drastic was too new and she didn’t quite want to connect it to her previous life.

“That’s good,” Dawson said, “you’re still living up the street with that guy, right?”

“Yeah, Pacey,” Joey said, and the idea of discussing Pacey with Dawson was also awkward.

“Who knew,” Dawson said, “I never would have thought you would have lived that long with a guy like that.”

Joey stepped back, the insinuation threw her off.

“A guy like what?”

“I don’t know,” Dawson said, “a typical guy, you know.”

“Pacey isn’t typical,” Joey said, her guard was up, though she didn’t quite know why. She had never realized before just how snobbish Dawson could be at times, but here….

“Oh, I guess,” Dawson said and Joey didn’t say anything else. Dawson dropped the subject thankfully and he moved on.

“Hey, we should get together some time,” Dawson said, “and catch up.”

Joey nodded, the invitation sounding a little like an opening to a possible reconciliation. And while that suggestion months ago would have sent her over the moon. Now, she felt indifferent to the suggestion. It was strange. There was time when Joey Potter could never even contemplate a life after Dawson Leery, but here she was even somewhat ambivalent about it.

“Yeah, of course, there’s so much I want to tell you,” Dawson said, “About the last few months, my films.”

Joey didn’t have time to respond, when a young woman approached them from the cafe and Dawson greeted her.

“Joey, this is Nikki,” Dawson said, “She’s helping on my new project.”

“Oh,” Joey said, “Nice to meet you.”

Nikki gave a courteous reply, and after the exchange of pleasantries, they left. Joey watched as they disappeared around the corner. And there was something final to it in her mind. Like she was watching her old life disappear into the horizon.

And she felt at peace.

She realized that she had finally begun to let go.

 

  
The snow melted away and spring was upon them. Joey put in the application to the fellowship and had managed to not completely botch the interview. Pacey had treated her to coffee afterwards.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

She smiled.

“Nervous,” she said, “but good.”

Pacey nodded.

“I mean, I don’t think I’ll get in,” Joey said, “but I’m glad I applied. Thank you.”

“Oh, don’t thank me,” Pacey said, “It’s your work.”

“No, I mean, I never would’ve done it without you,” Joey said, “You’ve been…”

She couldn’t put it into words. It wasn’t just the fellowship, but everything over the past year, ever since the break up with Dawson. How do you thank someone for helping you discover yourself?

She didn’t finish the sentence, and Pacey, as he always did, made a joke about the corny music playing in the cafe.

Joey dispelled the bit of unease (or rather anxiety) that she had about painting. Although her application was done, she had gotten into a groove with her art. It relaxed her and challenged her and allowed her to sort through her feelings.

It wasn’t just Pacey’s selflessness that was getting to her. It was that she felt herself starting to feel differently about him. Which was ridiculous. Not only was he her roommate, but they had promised they wouldn't develop any feelings.

This was Pacey Witter. She had hated him when she first met him.

Now she…

Well, she didn’t know what she felt.

She had moved forward a few weeks earlier with painting the wall. She spent weeks trying to decide what to do, but at the end of April, Pacey showed her the almost complete (and now actually functional, Pacey would boast) True Love, Joey suddenly knew what she wanted to do.

She was nervous about it, and she didn’t want him to read into it, but she was going to do what Pacey always did.

She would just do. Not think, do.

Joey had learned at least to do that much.

She still had the tendency to try and run away when it came to everything else though, and Abby Morgan’s impending nuptials provided a convenient excuse. There was the dress fittings and dance lessons and pre-wedding pictures. As Joey had expected, Abby's requirements for her wedding party was very expensive and time consuming.

It was going to be a very rich wedding, as Abby’s fiancee was from a blue-blooded family from New England, and just going by the price of the bridesmaids dress that Joey was forced to buy in order to take part in the blessed event, it was going to be a high class wedding.

Joey was not looking forward to it.

Not just because it was Abby Morgan, and she wouldn’t really know anyone aside from Jen…

And Dawson.

Dawson had called her a week before the wedding, wanting to get together and Joey hadn’t figured out how she was going to respond. The last time she had seen him at one of Abby’s final ‘bridal party meetings’ he had been staring at her with a confusing look. It left her feeling restless and unsure. It was becoming clear that she had certain expectations.

Expectations that she wasn’t quite sure she could meet. Her feelings had changed so much and in so many different directions.

She wanted to ask Pacey about what she should do, but she held back. That was too dangerous.

It was almost surreal to her, that she should be confused both by what she felt for Pacey and by what she didn’t feel for Dawson.

But it didn’t matter, because the week before the wedding, Pacey had mentioned to her that he was meeting with Andie.

“Oh,” she had said when Pacey had brought it up, and tried to focus on reading the book she had to get through for school.

“I think she wants to get back together,” Pacey said.

Joey looked at him.

“That’s a good thing, right?” Joey asked.

“Yeah,” Pacey said and looked at her.

“I mean, I know we’re supposed to move forward,” Joey said, “but you still like her.”

“I do,” Pacey said and he looked at Joey, “What about you?”

“Me?”

“With Dawson,” Pacey said, and Joey looked at him for a moment, “He’s in that wedding with you, right?”

“He's been wanting to see with me,” Joey said, “but I don’t know.”

Pacey gave a small smile.

“So much has happened,” Joey said, “I don’t know if I should go back. It's weird, I thought my whole life that Dawson would be the only person I ever wanted, and now it's almost as if I don't care if we get back together. It's like we promised, move forward, no going back, right?”

“Doesn’t have to be going back,” Pacey said, but his voice was soft and somewhat stilted, "things change."

Joey was able to muster up a smile.

“You’re right. But anyways, good luck with Andie,” she said.

And Joey meant it. Or at the very least she tried to mean it. She had grown used to Pacey being around and if he got back together with Andi, she knew instinctively that things would be different. They would change in some irrevocable way.

“Well, we’ll see,” Pacey said, “you have that wedding this weekend.”

Joey nodded.

“I don’t know why I even agreed to it,” Joey said, “it’s been more stress than it’s worth.”

“Well, it is a weekend away,” Pacey said.

“Yeah, with a bunch of snob strangers,” Joey said, “Not exactly a relaxing weekend at the Cape.”

Pacey smiled.

She debated showing him the Wall then but decided against it. She had just a few finishing touches to apply but it was finished for the most part. She was a little nervous about Pacey seeing it, but he would have to eventually. She couldn't go back now.

She finally settled on showing him the day before she had to leave for the wedding. Joey thought it would be easier if she could just disappear after it was finished and that way she wouldn’t actually have to face him if he didn’t like it.

Joey waited for him to get back from wherever he had gone and as soon as he walked through the door, she ran over and placed her hands over his eyes.

“Jo, what are you doing, can’t a guy at least put his jacket away?” Pacey asked.

“I have something to show you,” Joey said, as she guided him towards the studio.

“Are you walking me off a cliff?” Pacey asked.

“Maybe, you're about to find out.”

Joey carefully pushed Pacey forward and into the studio. She positioned him in front of the wall, keeping her hands over his eyes.

“Ok, now close yours eyes. No peeking!” Joey ordered, and once she was convinced that his eyes were closed, she removed her hands and waved a hand across his face just to make sure.

“What is this, Joey,” Pacey said, clearly starting to get antsy.

“Okay, on three. One…two…three! Open your eyes!”

Pacey did and Joey smiled as she watched him gaze at the wall.

What once had been a completely blank slate was now a large mural of pink and sunset and a calm deep blue ocean. Just to the right of the sun was a sailboat, sailing off into the distant.

“Joey, this is…”

“It’s the True Love, sailing off into the sunset. Onward and forward,” Joey said.

Pacey looked at her.

“Joey.”

She met his eyes and she felt herself smile at his reaction. It was one of—she dared say—pride.

“You’ve done so much for me over the past year, I couldn’t be selfish,” she said, “Thank you Pacey. For everything.”

“You did all this and you’re thanking me?” he asked.

“Yes,” Joey said.

Pacey looked at her, and Joey detected something unfamiliar in his eyes. There were things, emotions, he was holding back.

“Thank you,” he said, “I really needed this today. Chances are I will probably be sailing out on the True Love real soon.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was just with Andie and..”

Pacey wasn’t able to finish; he just ran a hand through his hair and sighed, and Joey suddenly understood.

“Pacey, I’m sorry,” Joey said, and she quieted the sense of relief that had come upon her. Pacey was her friend, and she shouldn’t be jealous. There was no reason for her to be jealous. No reason at all.

“Yeah,” Pacey said, "It was not pleasant."

Joey struggled a minute to figure out what the most appropriate action would be to comfort him, and she finally landed on an awkward pat on the shoulder.

“It just means she isn’t The One, Pacey. One day someone is going to come along and…”

Joey cut herself off, she could tell that that wasn’t doing much to cheer Pacey up and she was having trouble trying to be sincere. She looked him for a moment, trying to figure a new way to re-direct the conversation.

“You shouldn’t be alone this weekend,” Joey said, “I have to leave tomorrow for the rehearsal dinner, but you should come up Saturday for the wedding.”

“I don’t want to intrude,” Pacey said.

“You wouldn’t intrude,” Joey said, “It’ll be fine.”

“What about Dawson?” Pacey asked.

Joey didn’t quite understand.

“What about Dawson?” she asked.

“I just figured that since you both are in the wedding, it’d be a good opportunity for the two of you. I wouldn't want to get in the way. It didn’t work out for me, but there is still hope for you,” Pacey said.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” Joey said, “but, you wouldn't be in the way. You should come. It’ll be fun. Unless you don’t have a suit to wear.”

“I have a suit,” Pacey said.

“Good, then it’s settled. You’re coming this weekend,” Joey said.

Pacey laughed, and it was deep and true and it was enough to make Joey feel better.

“Alright, alright, alright, I’ll come, Potter,” Pacey said, “If you need me there.”

“No,” Joey said and she met his eyes and smiled, “I want you there.”

And that was the first time that she realized that something had definitely changed.

Onward and forward, she whispered to herself later when she had retreated to her bedroom.

 

The sky was slightly overcast when Joey boarded the train to take her out to where Abby’s wedding was taking place. She played along with Jen’s colorful commentary about the other members of the bridal party and Abby’s demands. But to be honest, her mind was elsewhere. Mostly on what had transpired the night before.

She was almost one hundred percent sure that she liked Pacey.

And not just like, but like, _like_ like Pacey. And it was a strong and deep sort of like. A like that she felt run through her whole body.

And it was absolutely terrifying. Terrifying in a way that it had never been before. Not even with Dawson.

Speaking of Dawson, she had felt him staring at her throughout the entire train ride and she fidgeted in her seat. She would have to talk to him. But not yet, not while she was buzzing with these newly realized feelings for Pacey, so she did her best to avoid him.

Though that was difficult since they were paired together for the ending procession and the choreographed reception dance that Abby had forced on them months ago. Joey was not looking forward to it, but the fact that Abby had last minute switched up the partner configurations made it even worse.

Dawson tried several times to start a conversation, but she kept it light. Simple. She just had to get through the dinner and the wedding. Then maybe she could figure things out and she could give Dawson the answers he was seeking.

And for the most part, she succeeded through the Rehearsal Dinner, and she had managed to bow out earlier without too many people noticing. She made her way through the hotel lobby, and looked down at her phone. Joey debated texting Pacey to see what time he would be coming in the next day, but she stopped when she saw him sitting on a sofa in the lounge.

“Pacey, what are you doing here?” she asked, but she could feel the smile spread on her face.

“Well, I was going to wait, but our apartment gets pretty lonely when you’re not around,” Pacey said, “And…”

He dug through the satchel that hung from his shoulder until he located a large fat envelope and handed it to Joey.

“This came in the mail today,” he said.

Joey took it and stared.

“This is…” she said.

“Yep, and from what I’ve been told, a thick envelope like that usually means really good news,” Pacey said.

Joey sucked in her breath and just stared at the label, where her full name was spelled out. She didn’t want to dare believe.

“So are you going to open it, or just stand there like a dummy?” Pacey goaded.

Joey pushed the envelope into Pacey’s hands.

“I can’t do it. You do it,” she said.

“You’re such a skittish kitten, Potter,” Pacey said, but he deftly opened the envelope and managed to pull out only a white paper. He quickly looked over it before he began to read the contents of the letter.

“Dear Josephine Potter, we are pleased to inform that you have been granted a Fellowship beginning in August of…”

Pacey trailed off but his grin matched Joey’s own.

“I got it,” Joey said, and she instinctively bounced forward and hugged Pacey.

“Yeah, you did,” Pacey said, pulling away, “I knew you would.”

“You did,” Joey said, “even when I didn’t.”

She took the letter and stared at it for a moment.

“So, are you going to let me buy you a drink or not, Potter?” Pacey asked.

“Of course,” Joey said, and she followed him to the hotel bar.

She asked him where he was staying and Pacey winked.

“I got a room.”

“Here?” Joey asked, “I thought it was completely booked?”

“They had a couple of cancellations,” Pacey said.

Joey didn’t quite believe him, but it didn’t matter. They sat at the bar and Pacey ordered a shot.

“To Rome,” he said and lifted up the glass.

“And to Abby and Eugene!” Joey said, remembering the reason she was in a hotel in the first place.

“Wait. The groom’s name is Eugene?” Pacey said.

“Eugene Piedmont,” Joey said.

“Wow.”

Joey hit him on the shoulder, and he laughed at the protest.

“You shouldn’t make fun of other people’s names, Pacey,” she said.

“I like my name,” Pacey said, “Now drink your shot.”

Joey downed the shot and smacked her lips in satisfaction, and then she took another, and another. It wasn’t long before she began to feel light-headed, but she didn’t mind. She spent the day enjoying each shot and the way Pacey smiled when she would say something completely outrageous.

“Alright, Potter, I think I need to cut you off,” Pacey said, “because you are about half a glass away from being the textbook definition of drunk and disorderly.”

“I’m fine,” she said, but she giggled when Pacey rolled his eyes at her.

“If you want me to go to my room,” she said, “You’re going to have to carry me there."

Pacey shook his head.

“Oh no, no, no, Potter, I don’t think my back could take that,” he said.

She teased him, until finally he had no choice but to give in. Or vaguely gave in, she still had to get herself to the elevator.

“Thank you for coming, Pacey,” she said as she sauntered across the lobby.

“I said I would come,” he said, “and so I did.”

Joey smiled up at him and then leaned on his shoulder. The world wasn’t completely shaking, but there was a slight unsteadiness there. They got into the elevator, and Joey pressed the button for her floor.

“When we reach my floor, I fully expect you to sweep me off my feet, Mr. Witter,” she said.

Pacey laughed.

“You are a real piece of work when drunk, Potter. You know that, right?” Pacey said.

“As if I haven’t had to take care of you many a time,” Joey said.

“Right.”

Joey focused on the line in the door to help keep her bearings, but she felt Pacey’s gaze before she saw it in the reflection. She turned and bit her lip when they made eye contact. And she felt it again. The thing she had felt the day before and possibly even before that.

She wanted to say something, to break the moment, but she couldn’t. There was something unspoken, something strange but not unwanted. And that was when the world began to spin.

The moment broke at the sound of the ding announcing that they had reach Joey’s floor and they stepped and Joey turned to Pacey and held out her arms.

“Alright, Pace,” she said, “Carry me.”

Pacey took a deep breath and she let out a shriek of joy when he lifted her off the floor and followed her directions to the room. It was a bit of mess trying to get in the room once they had reached it. They just barely made it through, and not without Joey accidentally hitting her head slightly against the door frame.

“You okay?” he asked as she scratched at her head.

“I’m fine,” Joey said.

He plopped down on the bed and looked to the clock on the bedside table.

“What time do you have to be up tomorrow?” he asked.

She stared at him for a moment. Exhaustion was beginning to seep in and she tried to stay focused.

“Seven,” she said.

“Alright, now I’m just going to remove your shoes, you’re going to have to take care of the rest,” Pacey said, as he pulled off one of her heels. Joey giggled as she wiggled her toes once free of her shoes.

When he finished removing her shoes, Pacey came back up presumably to grab his wallet that he had left on the nightstand earlier, and Joey, out of pure instinct, grabbed his wrist and looked up at him.

“Pacey, wait,” she said, and he stared at her.

“If I go to Rome…”

“When you go to Rome,” Pacey corrected and she smiled.

“When I go to Rome,” she said, “I want you to promise me that you aren’t going to sail off in the True Love until you find someone who’ll go with you.”

“Joey,” he said.

“I don’t want you to be alone,” she said.

Pacey’s face softened and he gently brushed a hair out of her face. Joey felt her heart skip another beat and she almost found the courage to ask him to stay, but she held back.

“I promise,” he said, it was almost a whisper, and she closed her eyes. She heard him say something vaguely under his breath, but she didn’t understand. Then she felt a soft brush on her forehead, and then…

He left, and when the door shut behind him, she opened her eyes and stared at the door.

And the world had become suddenly clear.

Joey turned on her back and stared at the indentations in the ceiling.

“Uh oh,” she said to herself.

And that was all that needed to be said.

 

Abby Morgan had a full day of activities planned on the day of her wedding. Joey luckily did not suffer too bad a hangover the next morning and no one could tell. Jen had stared at her a bit strangely in the beginning, but Joey just prepped herself for the day’s events.

Jen did confront her later about it, and Joey told her simply that Pacey had come, and that she had gotten the fellowship. Jen obviously had further questions, but wasn’t able to dig for more information as Abby beckoned for whatever it was she was complaining about now.

She didn’t see Pacey until just an hour prior to the wedding. There was a knock on the door and she opened to find him standing there dressed incredibly different from his usual plaid shirts and jeans and work boots.

“So this is your one suit,” Joey said as she stepped out of her apartment.

“And that’s the five hundred dollar dress,” Pacey said, referring to the dark, purple mass of tulle that Joey had been consigned to wear.

“It’s a little much,” Joey said, “But that’s Abby for you.”

“You look good,” Pacey said, "Absolutely amazing."

Joey felt the heat in her cheeks at the compliment; something about the way he spoke and looked at her made her feel a bit more self conscious than usual. She instinctively ran the a hand down the lapels of his jacket.

“So do you,” she said.

Pacey nodded and shifted in his shoes. Likewise, he also hated being complimented.

“Not bad for a screw up from the sticks, huh,” Pacey said and Joey stared at him for a moment. Pacey was prone to use a bit of self deprecation humor and Joey would usually let it slide, but not today.

“You shouldn’t be down about yourself like that,” she said, “You’re not a screw up.”

“You haven’t met my father,” Pacey said.

Joey shook her head.

“No, but I do know you. Pacey, you’re kind and selfless and an absolute life saver. You deserve to get everything that you want,” she stared at him, trying to make sure that he understood.

“Yeah, well I work at a bar, I have to be a somewhat makeshift handyman just to afford my rent, and I am in love with a woman who will never love me back,” Pacey said, “If I’m not a screw-up, than my life is sure a mess.”

Joey went through all the things she could and wanted to say. She felt the pressure to get it right. Joey lifted his chin up so that his eyes met hers.

“Pacey, I don’t care what is going on. You don’t need to fix your life, you just need to believe in it. Like you to taught me to believe in mine,” she said, “So if anyone dares try and call you a loser or screw up, you send them to me and I will set them straight.”

She let out a breath when she got that out and Pacey stepped closer to her.

“You’re hell of a woman, Potter,” Pacey said and he was close enough that she could smell his cologne.

“Pacey,” she said, but before she could get another word out he had leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek.

“See you at the reception,” he said, and she stared at him as he then walked past her to the elevator. And Joey couldn’t move, she could barely even breathe. She just placed a hand to her cheek and the corner of her mouth rose at the thought.

“Onward and forward,” she whispered to herself.

Because of her height (something that Abby had once mocked her mercilessly for), Joey would be the first bridesmaid down the aisle, so that was how she became one of the first people to stare down the long aisle of the chapel. She looked back at Jen, who rolled her eyes at the extravagance of the whole affair.

She waited for her cue, the start of Pachelbel’s Canon in D, before she made her way down the aisle. She had been instructed to look nowhere other than the altar at the end, but she couldn’t help but glance to the left, trying to find Pacey in the rows. He was towards the back and she gave a slight smile, but she couldn’t tell whether he noticed. When she reached the end and took her designated post, she sought him out again.

She ignored the way that Dawson stared at her during the ceremony. Pacey was making funny faces from the back, and Joey had to hold back the laughter. She couldn’t really describe the ceremony, except that it was beautiful, and never, not even once did she take her eyes off the back row at her roommate.

“Joey…Joey.”

Dawson’s pleas were soft and Joey missed them, until the Reverend of all people, tapped her on her shoulder when it became clear that it was her time to join the processional out of the chapel. Her face flushed in embarrassment and she quickly rushed over to where Dawson was waiting to escort her back down the aisle.

The time between the ceremony and the reception was a blur. There were pictures, and last minute threats of what would happen if any of them dared to step out of line.

“Beware of Bridezilla,” Jen said under breath, and Joey laughed slightly. Joey managed to peek through the curtains when they were lining up for their entrance into the reception hall, but tried as she might, she wasn’t able to make out Pacey in the crowd below.

“Looking for someone?”

Joey turned surprised to see Dawson looking at her.

“Oh, Dawson,” she said and immediately tried to downplay what he’d witnessed, “I was just looking for Pacey. He doesn’t know anyone, so...”

“Your roommate’s here?” Dawson asked, “I didn’t know he was invited.”

“He’s my plus one,” Joey said, “Don’t worry, I cleared it with Abby.”

“I’m sure you did,” he said, his tone suggested that Pacey’s lack of invitation was not the real issue.

But the wedding planner quickly called them into line so Joey was unable to confront Dawson fully on what was really bothering him. Joey and Dawson were the first announced to the crowd and Joey put on a forced smile and walked out to the end of the dance floor and waited for the rest to join them.

They didn’t talk during the initial rehearsed group dance, one, because it was awkward, and two, because Joey was concentrating extra hard to make sure she didn’t step on Dawson’s feet. And when that was finished there was the food, and the toasts. It was a while before she was able to try and locate just exactly where Pacey was in the entire hall.

She found him towards the back, sitting at a table with nothing but a bottle of beer and an empty plate.

“Hey,” she said, “Sorry it took so long, but I think most of my duties as a bridesmaid are officially done now.”

“That was a production,” Pacey said.

“Oh, you mean the choreographed dance,” she said, “Yeah it was a little much.”

“A little,” Pacey said, “but you were good.”

“I was a complete disaster,” Joey said, “Why else do you think they put me in the back.”

There was so much she had wanted to say, things she had realized, things she felt. But this wasn’t the time or place, so in the end she backed out again.

“Do you want to dance?” she asked, the music playing was upbeat and she thought it was pretty safe if she wanted to avoid too deep of a conversation.

“I don’t really dance,” he said.

“Come on, Pacey. It’s a wedding,” Joey said. She took his hand and lead him back towards the dance floor. His hand was warm in hers and she almost didn’t want to let it go.

She had realized in the past twenty four hours that she never wanted to let him go.

Before they had the chance to even move to the beat of the song, the music slowed and she looked to Pacey apologetically.

“Oh, I thought this would have lasted a bit longer,” she said, but Pacey said nothing. He just stepped closer and put a hand to her waist and raised the other. He began to sway to the melody and she moved with him.

“It was a beautiful wedding,” Joey said, trying to use small talk to ease the tension, “I mean it was expensive as hell, but it was gorgeous. If my own wedding is even half as beautiful as this one…”

“This isn’t you,” Pacey said simply, his voice soft.

She almost stopped them in the middle of the dance floor.

“Why? Because I’m a rough tomboy from the wrong side of the tracks?” Joey said.

He looked at her for a moment.

“No, but you don’t need all this,” he gestured with his head at all the extravagant decorations or over the centerpieces, “You’d know what’s important.”

“Oh,” she said.

“You don’t need a huge gown to light up a room,” Pacey said. Joey’s heart fluttered at the way the light danced off his eyes, “You at your worst is better than most people at their best.”

"And you would know," she said, trying to get him to laugh, but she only managed slight smile.

"I would," Pacey said, "and I mean it."

Joey could feel the blush and briefly wondered how ridiculous she looked. She instinctively pulled herself closer to him until she was able to press herself into his shoulder. And for one moment everything was perfect. She could pretend that this was something more, and that not everything in her body was telling her to run.

She was so scared, she thought, because for the first time in a long time, she realized that she had something real to lose. Something bigger than an expectation or a friendship that hadn’t been working for awhile.

She closed her eyes and just let the music and the feel of his body against hers and she lost herself in the moment, because she knew. She knew she loved him. She had probably loved him for a while now. It just took a painting, a sailboat, an art fellowship and a wedding to bring it into focus.

Joey Potter was absolutely, and completely in love with Pacey Witter.

She almost didn’t feel the tap on her shoulder at first, but soon enough it was unmistakable and she was pulled away to see Dawson standing there staring at her.

“Can I cut in?” he asked. Joey wanted to protest, but she didn’t when Pacey dropped his arms.

“Sure, man,” Pacey said and Joey almost hated him for giving up. But she couldn’t muster much outrage, she knew what he was probably thinking. This was Dawson and he still thought she wanted to get back together.

Joey allowed Dawson to lead her away, and she just stole one last glance in Pacey’s direction before turning back to Dawson.

“I’m sorry I cut in, but I’ve been waiting all night to talk to you,” Dawson said.

“You have?” Joey said They had been partners during the choreographed dance, but remembered that had been different. She had been so focused on getting the moves right, there hadn’t been time to talk.

“Yeah,” Dawson said, “and I was also a little jealous, watching you with that guy.”

Joey looked down, there had been a time when she would have killed to hear Dawson say that..

“You were?”

“I mean, you seemed like a completely different person,” Dawson said, “It was almost as if I didn’t know you anymore.”

Joey looked at Dawson and she felt the pang in her chest. Dawson Leery had been the biggest constant of her life and now they were barely even speaking.

“You don’t,” she said, “Not really. I didn’t even know myself.”

“Joey…”

And Joey suddenly couldn’t be there anymore. Her instinct to run was screaming in her ears, but she didn’t want to just run away from Dawson. Rather she knew that she needed to run towards something.

“I’m sorry, Dawson,” she said and stepped away, “I have to go.”

“Joey…”

But she was already halfway across the dance floor, looking from the right to the left, but Pacey was nowhere to be seen. This was just her luck. She finally had found the courage to act on what she felt instead of spending hours analyzing every possible ramification, and the reason for this breakthrough was nowhere to be seen.

“Are you looking for Pacey?” Jen asked her when she saw Joey coming back from searching the patio overseeing the ocean.

“Yes,” Joey said, “Have you seen him?”

Jen nodded.

“He came back, said something about taking the train back tonight,” Jen said.

Joey’s heart sank. He should have said something.

“Oh,” she said.

She ended up just heading back to her room and collapsing on the bed.

It could wait, she told herself. It wasn’t like she had to tell Pacey how she felt at that exact moment. They lived together!

But staring at the alarm clock watching the minutes tick by, a part of her felt that a moment had just passed her by.

  
Joey woke up to a gray sky and a heavy chance of rain. She didn’t rush through packing things up. It was like she sleep-walked through brunch the next morning. But the the fact that she didn’t just jump on a train to the city meant that the early morning did give her some more time to think.

To doubt how she was feeling, to put it off like she always did. There was Rome after all, and Pacey was still mourning the end of his relationship with Andie.

And then there was Dawson, who was staring at her from across the table.

It was not that she wanted to get back together with Dawson. It was that she had known him her entire life. How could what she felt now after a little less than a year be stronger than that? How could she be sure? What if she was wrong?

After a brunch full of thank yous and congratulations for the happy couple, Joey made her way out to the screened sunroom, and sat in one of the large, white wicker chairs overlooking the ocean and watched as the waves crashed into the shore.

She didn’t know how long she had been there when she heard Dawson come up from behind her. Or rather, she heard the click of a camera and turned to see Dawson standing there.

“Did you just take a picture?” she asked, getting up from her seat and walking over to him.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” he said.

She brushed him off. That wasn't important.

“You ran off last night, so we didn’t really get to talk,” Dawson said, “I saw you sitting out here and I thought now would be as good a time as any.”

“Sorry,” Joey said, “I don’t know what came over me. I just, I’ve been going through a lot lately.”

“It seems that way,” Dawson said as he looked down at his shoes with a sigh and then looked back at her. And it was almost like he was the old Dawson, the person he was before they had dated, when he had just been her best friend who she had never hesitated turning to when things got rough or she didn’t know what to do.

Almost.

“You know, I saw you there and I’d completely resolved to come over here and tell you how I felt and ask you to get back together,” his eyes met hers and Joey felt a little regret at the bit of forlornness that she could see in his eyes “but seeing you here now I realized that that would just be a fool’s errand.”

She wavered for just a moment out of confusion.

“Why is that?” Joey asked.

Dawson gave a small laugh and looked at her.

“You told me last night that I didn’t know you anymore, and at the time I thought that was preposterous. After all these years together, the last one excluded, no one has ever known me better than you. But seeing you here and last night, I realized you were right. I don’t know you.”

“Dawson…”

“I always thought you were The One, and I just need to be who I was supposed to be for us to be together, but seeing you here now and last night I realized that that isn’t true. I never thought of the possibility that I wasn’t The One for you,” he said. Joey moved to speak or apologize, but Dawson stopped her and continued, “I thought I knew what Joey Potter in love looked liked, but I realized that until last night, I never did.”

He handed her over the digital camera he had been holding, and Joey took it and looked at the tiny screen. It was one singular photo of her and Pacey dancing at the reception. Dawson had wanted her to focus on how she looked, but all that Joey could memorize was the way Pacey was looking at her.

“Dawson, this is…”

“I think I just miss the way we were Joey. Life is hard, and I just wanted to talk to you like I always did. So instead of trying to force something that’s no longer possible, do you think that that we could be friends like before?”

Joey smiled and handed the camera back to him.

“Friends,” she said, testing the word on her mouth, “I’d like that.”

She pulled him into a hug and it felt final and true. When they pulled apart they both shuffled aimlessly on their feet.

“So, are you going to tell him?” Dawson asked, and Joey didn’t need to question what he was referring to.

“No,” she said, “I’m going to do something about it. Onward and forward, Dawson.”

And she made her way to the exit, only stopping when she realized that she couldn’t just go to the train station without…

“Dawson, my stuff…”

“I’ll handle it,” he said, “You go.”

She gave him one last smile and said the only thing that was needed between them.

“Thanks.”

 

Joey was a complete ball of nerves the whole way back to the city. She used every minute to go over everything she could possibly say. She fought her every instinct to just turn back, retreat to the familiar, every curve that her mind pulled to try get her to second guess her decision.

But her heart stayed steady, and it was buzzing when the cab pulled up in front of her building. She vaguely heard Mr. Kobeck, the building superintendent, call her when she rushed through the lobby, but she just went straight for the stairs, paying no mind to anyone or anything.

She burst into the apartment and tossed her coat on the sofa and called out Pacey’s name. She stood in front of the door, and took a deep breath. This was it.

“Pacey, I need to talk to you,” she said, her voice loud, and she waited to hear him say something irreverent about how she needed to keep it down or something.

But there was nothing. No footsteps, no grunts or groans that she had become quite accustomed to over the past few months.

She waited only a couple of minutes before she approached the door and knocked. There was still nothing, and she grabbed the door handle and walked through.

And there was nothing.

Pacey’s room was completely bare, just the lone bed frame and mattress that was provided with the room, but the walls had been stripped of the band and sports posters, the closet was completely empty, just one wire hanger hanging by itself.

Joey looked around and she didn’t understand what was happening. Why would he leave? Where would he go? Why now?

She sat at the edge of the bed and just stared out the window at the gray sky.

How could he do this to her? Just when she had figured it all out, he had to up and leave. What was he thinking?

Just minutes ago, she had thought about kissing him, but now what she really wanted to do was strangle him. Or maybe both.

There were three raps on the door and she perked up. It wasn’t that she thought it was him, but there was a tiny sliver of hope.

It was Mr. Kobeck.

“Miss Potter, I believe that roommate of yours left you this,” Mr. Kobeck said and handed her a simple white envelope.

Joey took it but didn’t open it. She needed answers first.

“Did you see him? Did you see Pacey?”

Mr. Kobeck nodded.

“Did he tell you where he was going?” Joey asked.

“No, just that he quit his job at Rooney’s and was going away for awhile. I assume you’re going to find a new roommate,” he said, “I just need to know…”

Joey nodded, but waved him off. She couldn’t worry about that right now. He quit his job? That was disturbing. What had gotten into him?

Once Mr. Kobeck had left, Joey wandered into her art studio and just stared out the windows at the skyline. She listened to the sounds of trucks outside and she sank to the floor and closed her eyes.

‘You’re an idiot, Pacey,’ she thought, ‘how am I supposed to move forward without you?’

The thrill of the day must have finally caught up with her because she lost track of the time and drifted off into a shallow listless sleep, and only awoke later, when the street light that was just outside the window came on.

She got up and turned on the lights and it was then that she remembered the tiny envelope that Mr. Kobeck had given her. She opened the envelope to find just a small, blank white card with a message and a key that she presumed was Pacey’s. The message on the card was not helpful, and she threw her head back.

“God damn it, Pacey,” she said out loud.

When she pulled her head back down her eyes fixed on the mural on the wall. That was when Joey noticed it. Something had been painted on the mural next to the sailboat. And Joey knew that she had not painted them. It was words, and Joey smiled just a bit.

She had been so stupid; she knew exactly where Pacey was.

If he had something he needed to tell her, which the photo and now the tiny inscription on the mural proved that he did. He needed to tell her.

It was time to make Pacey follow his own advice.

There were no nerves when the cab pulled up to the marina. Joey climbed out and surveyed the mass of yachts and boats strung along the docks. She had no idea where the True Love was, just that she knew it was here, somewhere.

And where True Love was, Joey knew, Pacey was. Double meaning and all.

She made her way down the docks, looking for any small boat that she thought could possibly be it. She was hampered a bit by how dark it was, but that didn’t matter. She would stay here all night if she had to. Joey was not about to let Pacey Witter get away with just leaving like that.

She at least deserved a goodbye and the chance to tell him how she felt.

But it was frustrating, so finally, she stood in the middle of the docks, took a deep, deep breath and she shouted his name at the top of her lungs and waited.

Nothing happened for a moment, but when she geared up to do it again, she noticed a light come on in one of the boats down her row, and when Joey approached it she realized that it was the True Love.

She saw a figure emerge from the cabin, and it wasn’t long before Pacey was hopping on the docks.

“Joey, what are you doing here? Screaming like a crazy person,” he said.

She ran up to him, and while a part of her wanted to hug him, she shoved him instead and he stumbled a few steps before regaining his footing.

“Joey….”

“I’m crazy? Pacey, you moved out of a perfectly good apartment to live in a cramped little sailboat,” she said.

Pacey hissed as he took in air through his teeth.

“Well about that, I just.”

“Do you have something you want to tell me?” she asked.

He looked at her for a moment.

“It’s just hard,” he said, “I mean, you told me I deserve to get everything I want, but if I were to get everything I wanted then you wouldn't."

Pacey must have not seen the slight smile on Joey's face because he continued.  
  
"I mean, I had to get out, because the thought of being there when you’re in Rome or…back with Dawson. I couldn’t stand it.”

Joey should have asked him why either of those things would hard, but she was still a bit too angry.

“So you’re running away, Pacey? Don’t you remember that I’m the coward in room 407C?” she said.

“Joey…”

“I’m not getting back together with Dawson. And as for Rome, well…” she trailed off.

“Well, what?” Pacey asked.

“It depends, on whether something works out or not,” she said.

“Oh,” he said.

She looked at him, and backtracked, neither of them could afford any misunderstanding.

“I’m not getting back together with Dawson, for the same reason, that I suspect you’re not back with Andie. So Pacey, I am going to ask you again. And I need you to be the Pacey Witter that I know…” she paused and made sure that he was listening.

“And love, and not avoid the question,” she said, and she swore that a part of him perked up a little at her words, but she wasn’t going to let him interrupt her.

“Do you have something you need to tell me?”

He was close now, and she could feel her heart almost bursting from her chest. This was real, and it was happening and though a part of her still wanted to just turn and run, she was going to stand her ground and see this through. She had thought her life had ended almost a year ago, but now she realized that until that moment it had never truly started.

Pacey didn’t say anything, and so Joey did what she always did in these sorts of situations. She began to babble.

“Because I love you, Pacey. This year started out like it was going to be one of the worst, and now I look back and think it has actually been one of the best. And I know a big part of that is because of you. So if you think I’m just going to let you disappear and break your promise and…”

“Do you ever shut up?”

Joey stopped and looked at him, and he was smiling. Smiling in a way that she wasn’t quite sure that she had ever seen before. It was for her, she knew, and it made her feel powerful and safe and warm.

And loved.

“No,” she said, and it was then that he leaned down. She closed her eyes and he kissed her.

It was soft and slow, and Joey automatically leaned right into it. She relished the way it made her feel, and when he pulled away to presumably say something cheeky, she didn’t let him and pulled him right back in.

They were both breathless when they finally fully pulled apart.

“So that thing you needed to work out,” he said.

She smiled.

“I think it happened,” she said, “So please tell me you’re going to move back in to the apartment.”

Pacey was quiet for a moment.

“That might be difficult,” Pacey said.

“I’m sure it won’t be Pacey, I have your key,” she said.

“Yeah, but see I have some business out of town coming up. I’m not sure it’s worth the work to move everything back in.”

Joey raised an eyebrow at him.

“Out of town, where are you going?” she asked.

He looked at her.

“I think I have some business in Rome.”

Joey just stared, not quite believing what she was hearing.

“You have business in Rome? Do you even have a passport?”

Pacey laughed.

“Of course I have a passport,” Pacey said, but he didn’t say anything for a moment, just letting the silence wash over them.

“Pacey, why?”

“Because I could see you deciding not to go do that fellowship because of me, and I couldn’t have that,” he said, “Besides, if you’ll have me, I would just rather be wherever you are.”

She gulped.

“So we’re really going to do this?” she asked.

“We really are Potter. You and me,” he said.

“I love you, Pacey,” she said, and she didn’t even really hear him say back; she just laughed when he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up and spun her around the docks.

It was progress, she thought, and they would do what they had done the whole year long.

Onward and Forward.

 

 

Apartment 407C.

Joey followed Pacey back into the apartment, loads of bags and luggage tucked under her arms and in her hands. It was amazing how much stuff one could amass in a year living abroad, and none of what they had brought back had included what they had to have shipped back, like Joey’s paintings, or an antique chair that Pacey had taken a fancy to for some inexplicable reason.

She dropped the bags on the floor and surveyed the apartment.

“It seems bigger,” she said, “Was it always this big?”

“Pretty sure they didn’t change the dimensions, Jo,” Pacey said.

She turned back to him and wrapped her arms around him.

“It’s good to be home,” she said, “I missed this place.”

“Me too,” Pacey said, and he kissed her forehead. Joey smiled in contentment. The last year had been a whirlwind in a good way. No running away. No fear. Just living. And Loving.

“So, Pacey,” she said looking up at his face, “Now that we’re back in the States, please tell me that you are going to get rid of that ridiculous fuzz on your face.”

Pacey ran a hand through what he called a goatee, but what Joey thought was just a small rodent taking up residence on his chin.

“No, I like it, besides you cut your hair?” He flipped a few strands of her hair which she had cut to just above her shoulders and she hit him in the shoulder.

“You said you liked my hair!” she said.

“I do, but I like my goatee,” he said.

She squinted at him, and pursed her lips in thought.

“Alright, but don’t be surprised if you wake up one night and I am hovering over you with a razor and a can of Barbasol, you only have yourself to blame,” she said.

“Oooh, kinky,” Pacey shot back.

“Pervert.”

“Prude.”

He leaned in to briefly kissed her. It was just another one of countless moments that Joey felt a complete and absolute sense of contentment.

“So Joey, lease is almost up and I think it’s time that you re-apply to stay here,” Pacey said.

“Are you being serious?” Joey asked.

“Of course, now I don’t need a background check, so just tell me why you’d make a good roommate, and one drawback,” Pacey said.

Joey nodded, he was doing a terrible of job keeping the grin off his face.

“So, I’m clean, I’m always on time with the rent, and last I checked, I just supported you for a year in Rome,” Joey said.

“Hey, I worked plenty, our super over there was very sad to see me go,” Pacey said.

“Sure,” Joey than scratched at her chin, pretending to think about the next part, “As far as a drawback, I would say, I have a very clingy boyfriend who will probably be loafing around here all the time.”

“I’m clingy,” Pacey feigned shock.

“Yes, now am I in?” Joey said.

Pacey shrugged, “I guess, here’s the key.”

He handed Joey an envelope, and Joey didn’t break eye contact as she dumped the contents of her envelope into her palm. She was about to pull the key through the keychain when she went entirely still.

There was not a key in her palm but a ring.

She looked up at Pacey, whose face was completely serious.

“Pace…”

He wrapped his arms around her, and she didn’t even need to hear the actual question. There was no doubt in her mind.

“Onward and forward,” she said and closed her eyes and leaned into his lips against her hair.

“Onward and Forward, Potter.”

 


End file.
